Martin Christopher Henry Ellingham
by Boots1980
Summary: This sequel to "Edith Rose Wallingford Montgomery" begins in S3, Ep. 7, during which Martin and Louisa decide not to marry, and continues into S4. Chris Parsons, Edith Montgomery and other old and new friends play a role in sorting out the lives of Martin and Louisa.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1   
**

**Wingman  
**

**Chris Parsons was pacing impatiently in the chancel of the Parish Church of St. Margaret near Port Wenn. Glancing between the time on his watch and that on his mobile, both confirmed that Ellingham was late, the first Parsons ever knew him to be so. The cool November air flowing through the open doors rustled the pages of the programs clutched by the many congregants. Chris could feel the anxiety emanating from them. Louisa Glasson had not arrived either, and heads were craning toward the entry willing her presence in the church. **

**Looking toward the second pew, he saw Michelle's eyes drop as he tried to gain her attention. She was likely still angry from the rare argument they had early this morning whilst driving to the village. Their three children had been left in the care of her sister, so that Chris and Michelle could stay the night in Port Wenn. They began the trip with Michelle's hand resting on his thigh and the anticipation of a night together uninterrupted by children. **

**An unthinking remark by Chris had ended that promise. Laughing, he told her that the local pub had a betting pool underway as to whether or not Martin would actually appear for the wedding on Saturday. The odds were an astonishing 99 to 1 that Louisa would be left standing alone at the church. Rather than laugh, Michelle had shrieked: "What a bloody horrid thing to say Chris! You're his best man. How dare you even think that. Louisa has been through so much with him. It would devastate her to be left at the church. Shame on you!"**

**Not only had her hand left his thigh, her back was turned to him as she pulled a book from her bag and pointedly ignored his pleas that he was only joking. He knew Ellingham very well, and it seemed he loved Louisa deeply. Remember how they behaved when the two couples met for dinner last Sunday? They couldn't take their eyes from each other. Chris was astonished to see Mart drape his arm around Louisa's shoulder and kiss the top of her head several times as they lingered over coffee**

**At med school, he was more likely to see Ellingham arrive late for a lecture than to show overt affection to a woman. True, Mart had no women in med school – or at least none Chris knew of at the time. It was only after Edith Montgomery left for Canada that Robert Southwood told him of the relationship between Martin and Montgomery. He did so by way of urging Chris to keep an eye on Ellingham. He was bereft over Edith's rejection of his marriage proposal and her move to Montreal. **

**Had Southwood not been his mentor, Chris would have punched him for what he knew must be a treacherous lie. How could his friend Mart have anything to do with Montgomery? Surely, Robert was saying this only to wind him up before training began in earnest. He assured Chris it was true and again suggested he look after Ellingham. **

**Still questioning his mentor's veracity, Chris told Michelle about this outrageous tale. She blushed deeply and stammered that it might be correct. Although married less than a month, Chris recognized her unease and continued to press her. Michelle finally admitted that Martin had told her about Edith just before their wedding. She, too, was in disbelief but he seemed quite taken with the woman.**

**Michelle also recalled that her friend, Nathalie, was on the prowl for single men at their wedding and cornered Ellingham. She managed a modicum of conversation with him, but complained that he was the first man not entranced by her considerable charms. Realizing there was no hope for romance, she entertained herself by coaxing words from the truculent man. **

**Prattling on about her escapades through many failed relationships, Martin had listened patiently whilst twirling a spoon between his hands. Finally, she asked if he was involved in a relationship. For a long minute he stared at her and eventually blurted that he had just ended one. A woman had turned down his marriage proposal and left the country for studies abroad. **

**Recognizing a fellow-sufferer in the realm of romance, Nathalie urged him to talk about it. Martin looked at her as if she had asked him to create world peace, end poverty and cure all diseases in the next five minutes. Askance was not strong enough to describe the look on his face, she laughed.**

**Chris was elated that Montgomery had not accepted Ellingham's proposal and thrilled that she would be in Canada for many years. Pointing out that Martin might be upset by Edith's rejection, Chris shouted incredulously "why?" **

**This was nearly the same reaction he had when he learned that a Dr. Edith Montgomery was to work one day a week at Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro. Thinking there could be two or more doctors with that name, Chris quickly scrolled through her CV and saw it was, indeed, the same Edith Montgomery from St. Mary's. Resting his forehead on the desk, Chris wondered how he might avoid his med school nemesis during her time in Truro. **

**Of course that was impossible, so Parsons stood and forced a smile as she walked into his office in mid-September. He recognized Montgomery immediately, but her long brown braid had been replaced with a short hairstyle of a dubious ginger colour. This meeting was as difficult for Edith as Chris, and they studiously remained cordial throughout their talk. Both were equally relieved to end the time but not before she dutifully asked about Michelle and wondered if they had children. **

**Chris took up a framed photo from his desk and identified Gillian, Daniel and Julia, ages 11, 9 and 4. Oh bother, now he would have to ask about Edith's family. No she was not married – divorced twice actually – but she did have a 7 year old son, Nicholas. He was to begin boarding school in September, but her family held what she called a "bloodless coup," and Nicholas now attends the village school with his cousins. She travels to Hertfordshire on weekends to be with him.**

**Chris was surprised and relieved that Edith did not ask about Ellingham. On learning she would be working in Truro, his first thought was how to tell Mart. He had not found the right occasion, and really Martin might never learn of it. Gynaecology and obstetrics were the most distasteful parts of Ellingham's GP practise. Unless a medical emergency, he quickly dispatched pregnancies to the area mid-wife and gynae patients to Royal Cornwall. **

**Given that she would only be at hospital one day each week, there was little chance Montgomery would ever encounter Ellingham. Besides which, Mart finally was making headway with Louisa Glasson, the primary school head who nearly quashed his appointment. Chris appreciated the irony. Ellingham did not. **

**Trying again to catch Michelle's eye, Chris saw Roger Fenn motioning him to the back of the church. Heads turned in unison as he strode through the nave to the narthex. Roger, Martin's Aunt Joan, and a thin, bearded man awaited. The man identified himself as Anthony Oakwood, Louisa's next door neighbour. He solemnly handed an envelope to Roger saying that Louisa asked him to deliver it. "I stand ready to help as I may, even though Terri and I were not invited to the wedding." **

**Chris lead the three outside, not wanting this scene to unfold in front of the curious guests. Roger Fenn opened the envelope and read aloud: **

"**Dear Roger, I have decided that I am not yet ready to marry Martin. Please ask Chris Parsons to escort him from the church and tell him with no one else present. I will deliver a letter to his surgery explaining everything. Please ask Joan Norton to announce that there will be no wedding. I hope that everyone will partake of the food and drink Bert and Al Large so kindly prepared for today. Finally, I ask that no one come to my cottage or try contacting me for the next few days as I sort this out. Thank you Joan, Chris and Roger for helping your grateful friend, Louisa Glasson." **

**Joan Norton broke the silence: "Well, then, where's Marty? Perhaps he's had an accident on the road. I'll just have PC Penhale search him out."**

"**Mrs. Norton, I've just come from Port Wenn," said Oakwood, "and I saw nothing along the way." Stating what the others did not wish to think, he added: "It might be that the groom also had a change of heart. Has anyone phoned him?"**

**The three looked one to the other and shook their heads no. Chris had thought to do so, but knew Martin would be angry if he were only delayed with a patient.**

"**Let me ring his mobile," Chris said. "He'll likely have that with him." After two rings, the answerphone switched on, and Chris asked Martin to phone him when he had a moment. Next he left the same inane message at the surgery. It may be that Louisa had delivered her letter to him, and – like her – he did not wish to talk with anyone. **

**Continued. . . . **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**

**Assistance**

**If one more sticky-fingered boy grabbed a sandwich from Edith's tray she would throttle him. How did this ever come to happen? She was a prominent reproductive endocrinologist with a long list of published papers in Canada, the United States and soon Britain. Why then was she playing serving girl at the wedding of Larchmont School's headmistress to Arthur's farm manager? She had only to look at her mother mingling with guests to have her answer: She had been told by Rose Montgomery to do so. **

"**Oh for goodness sake, Edith! Helen and Charmaine have worked on this for weeks with the wedding committee, and they've only asked you to carry trays. You should take this opportunity to meet the parents of Nick's friends. His teachers as well. Now look smart and get on with it."**

**The same chilly November wind blowing through Port Wenn that Saturday caused Edith to shiver in her light grey trouser suit - the best she could muster on short notice. To the great disappointment of Nicholas she had forgotten about Miss Blake's wedding and failed to bring a fancy dress like those worn by the other mums. Not the first nor the last time she would disappoint Nicholas Edith feared. **

**Each weekend she returned to Larchmont Hall, she spotted changes in her son. He was less needy, got on well with his cousins and was excelling in school. Mum had continued to encourage Patrick's phone calls, and only this morning Nick announced that his dad was coming to England for Christmas. Clenching her hands together, Edith assured Nicholas this was fantastic news. She would deal with Patrick later. Charmaine had to be behind all of this. She would have a word with her as well.**

"**So, dear sister, if the babymaking thing doesn't work out, you can always be a serving wench," Arthur laughed as he took a sandwich from her tray. As usual there was a woman trailing after Arthur, and he introduced her as an advocate for organic farming and green issues visiting from London. Aspey Wright-Haven was her name, and she looked disdainfully at the fish paste and cheese sandwiches Edith carried about. Charmaine and David had supplied the cakes and drink for the reception, but the parents had brought food to serve the school's many children, parents and wedding guests. Had she her way, Edith assured Aspey, the guests would be eating sprouts sprinkled with wheat germ and unprocessed yoghurt. **

**Helen's son, Rob, was busily snapping photos of the crowd, and Edith suspected more than a few would make their way into her sister-in-law's promotional literature for weddings in Larchmont. "Behold the many guests we can accommodate on your very special wedding day," the advert would likely trumpet. Well, Edith was not so certain Helen would seize control of Larchmont Hall for her wedding business. She had another plan in mind for the family pile of bricks. **

**Based on the success of the Zeffren Clinic Spa near Truro, Edith envisioned Larchmont Hall as providing similar reproductive services for London women – and it was considerably closer to the city. Why travel to Cornwall by plane when a train from Victoria Station would bring you to Larchmont in an hour or so? **

**Her reverie was interrupted by Teddy Latham, David's obnoxious PA, who had told her brother about Edith's werewolf syndrome diagnosis. As usual David took her remark quite literally and scolded Edith for frightening his best PA ever. Did she not realize how vital Teddy had been in refurbishing Larchmont Hall in a timely manner? Her parents were quite fond of him as well, and Edith had nearly run him off. **

"**Now what," she asked, as the young man looked up from his IPad saying: "They're about to cut the cake. We'll need your help distributing pieces to the children. Could you make your way over to the marquee with the blue and white streamers." **

**Dear God, she was not about to be ordered about by this little twit. "No, I'm managing the sandwiches. You go and serve cake to the kiddies."**

"**That's not my role, Dr. Montgomery. I've volunteered my time to help Char and Helen coordinate the wedding. The least you can do is co-operate. The other parents have gone out of their way to make this a nice day for Miss Blake and Mr****. Parker. Rose would be very disappointed in your refusal to help."**

**With his last comment, Edith handed the sandwich tray to Teddy and stomped off to the designated marquee. First her child, now her mother. Was there no one who was not disappointed in her? Even that blasted Robert Southwood had the audacity to ring her on Friday asking about her progress with his haemophobic protege.**

**Not wishing to jeopardize any future liaisons with Robert, she pleaded the busy-ness of establishing herself in Truro. "Edie," he cajoled, "there are people who can help you with that, but only you can see to it that Martin Ellingham returns to surgery. Don't disappoint me, Edie."**

**Of course, Robert was right. Many people could help her. She simply did not want to search out Ellingham. Each week she put off the call or note and took the convenient excuse of Nick to dismiss the possibility of a weekend trip to Port Wenn. **

**What would she say? "Let's have a catch-up Ellingham. Incidentally, you should see a psychologist about your haemophobia. Glad you took that so well Martin. No, I really don't need my head. No problem at all that you've blown it off with your explosive reaction. Lovely to see you. Do tell Southwood hello." **

**The more likely idea was having a frank conversation with Chris Parsons and involve him in returning Ellingham to surgery. But from what Lacey told her Parsons was unlikely to co-operate. Ellingham was a major feather in his cap and had allowed him to recruit other lesser but still high-quality doctors to Cornwall. ****If someone of Ellingham's stature could abandon London for Port Wenn there must be an attraction.**

**Lacey also heard rumours that Imperial was considering a six month rotation for its house officers in Truro. That would certainly improve the hospital and enhance Parsons' CV. No, little chance Chris would be eager to lose Ellingham. **

**Perhaps on Monday, she would have Lacey learn as much as possible about Ellingham's situation. This would be fairly easy for Lacey Woods, her assistant at Zeffren, whose husband had been one of the doctors lured from Plymouth's Peninsula Medical Center to Royal Cornwall. It almost caused a divorce, but Lacey relented and followed Malcolm to Truro. **

**He was a first rate nephrology consultant and dedicated to his patients. Their children were teenagers and remained in a boarding school near Plymouth, leaving Lacey with little to do. She took the post at Zeffren for the free spa services and the chance to imbibe the London culture embodied by the patients. Edith gave her wide latitude because she was very engaging and one of the reasons the clinic was so popular. Edith had the skill and Lacey the charm that Londoners valued.**

**At the marquee her 17-year-old niece, Judith, was dividing the many wedding cakes into precise squares. "Oh, Aunty Edith, you missed the bride and groom cutting their cake. They each had a bit and then kissed. It was beautiful. They are so in love."**

**Rolling her eyes, Edith said: "They'll be divorced in three years. If she's lucky there'll be no children clinging to her skirts when he leaves." **

"**Aunt Edith," the fledgling psychologist exclaimed, "you are so terribly cynical. You mustn't talk that way around Nicholas. You know he's at a very impressionable age, and we don't want him exposed to negative thoughts about marriage after what he's been through." **

**Once again chastised, Edith did not have the heart to fight back. Instead she took up cake plates and handed them to the nearest grimy children. England had become a bloody nightmare. She thought her brothers treated her badly, but the generation of children they spawned had no respect for Edith, and her sisters-in-law had turned Mum into a harpy. **

**The scene Mum, Charmaine and Helen created about Nicholas going off to boarding school still rankled her. She now realized they were right, and he was much happier with her family. But really the gall of them to interfere in her child's life. And then for this spikey little niece to lecture her on proper behaviour around Nicholas was maddening. **

**Returning to the table for more cake, Judith asked: "Did Nicky tell you his father is coming for Christmas?"**

"**Yes, and a bloody bad idea it is. I'm going to have a word with Charmaine later today. She's not to interfere with Patrick again." **

"**Oh, it wasn't Aunty Char who suggested it. I've seen how sad Nick is after chatting with his dad. I told him to ask Uncle Patrick for a Christmas visit. He was only too happy to say yes."**

"**You were behind this," Edith roared. **

**Holding her head high as only Rose Montgomery could have taught her, Judith said: "Yes. Nicholas is at a critical age in a boy's development and needs his father. If he's willing to be part of Nicky's life, you should allow it. It will be good for the both of them."**

**Stunned by the cheekiness of her niece, Edith had to suppress a smile: My God, this girl was like her at 17. She was not sure if she was more proud or annoyed with her. But she had a retort at hand as she grabbed more cake for the waiting throngs: "If I need your assistance with anything, Judith, I will ask. Meanwhile, stay out of my business."**

**Continued. . . . **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
**

**Announcement**

**Chris Parsons was a very astute chief executive and a good doctor, but it took an extra few seconds for reality to register: Louisa was not marrying Martin and by the lack of his presence at St. Margaret's, it seemed he did not intend to marry her. What sort of odds were those? Then he felt his stomach roil. My God, Mart and Louisa were not being married after all. **

**As the other three reached the same conclusion, Pauline Lamb, Ellingham's flamboyant receptionist, rushed through the church doors. "What's going on then? Everyone's gone mad wanting to know what's happened. What should I tell them?"**

"**You will tell them nothing, Pauline. I shall manage this as Louisa asked me to do," Joan imperiously intoned. Then gesturing toward the collapsed marquee, "You fetch the Large boys and ask what can be salvaged from this mess. The guests will need a bit of food and drink, considering they are missing Marty's wedding."**

**No sooner had Joan uttered those words, than her chin quivered and she began to cry. "Oh my poor foolish boy, why aren't you here? What more could you want than Louisa Glasson? "**

"**Now, Mrs. Norton," soothed Anthony Oakwood, "this may be for the best. They seemed ill-suited to each other. She's a lovely woman, very kind to Terri and Sam. But he's an odd duck, isn't he? Then you'd know that more than most." **

**Insulting her nephew raised Joan's hackles and stopped her tears. "I'll thank you to say nothing more about Martin. Likely, there's only a bit of a delay whilst he and Louisa work out some matters. I believe the wedding will be re-scheduled well before Christmas. I'm quite sure of it. And this time we'll make certain you and your wife are invited. Mark my word."**

**Patting her eyes with the handkerchief Oakwood provided, Joan continued: "Even if Martin appears, I believe we should tell the guests sooner rather than later. The tongues are wagging even now, and we must end the gossip quickly. Let me collect myself for a minute, and I'll go into the church."**

"**Now, there's no need for that, Joan," chimed in Roger Fenn. "It may be better coming from me. I have no relationship to either and might appear more neutral. This would be quite difficult for you, and I can easily spare you the task."**

"**Perhaps, I should accompany you, Mrs. Norton," suggested Anthony Oakwood. "As a psychologist, I understand how people react to this sort of thing. You could make the announcement if you like, although I am quite experienced at delivering bad news."**

"**Thank you both, but that won't be necessary. I shall tell them. Roger and Chris, please come with me, but I shall bear the burden of Martin and Louisa's folly. Both of them will likely regret their decision, but that's not for me to say. Come along then."**

**Opening the church doors, they were greeted by a rousing version of "Ode to Joy," being played quite emphatically by the church organist, Sally Tishell. Perhaps, she was playing loudly to cover the animated conversations being conducted by the guests. As they caught sight of Joan Norton, a pall fell on the church, and the music stopped mid-note. Joan walked about a quarter of a way along the north aisle and smiled slightly as eyes were pinned to her. **

"**Once, again, I thank all of you for coming today. I've a bit of an announcement, and then we can go on to the church yard for drink and food. It looks quite lovely. All done by Large's Restaurant and done up right, I'd say." Standing next to her Chris wanted to nudge Aunt Joan into action, but he kept his head bowed and his hand tucked under her quaking arm. The poor dear, she had talked to him so excitedly this morning about the wedding, the possibility – she so desperately hoped - of a child or two for Martin and Louisa. **

**Now, she could not bear to end her dream. Chris had seen it before during medical training. The new widow who nattered on as he - a young house officer – explained that they had done everything possible to save the ancient husband, but his time had come. The time to let go of her husband had not yet come. Chris would listen patiently, as he did now, for the woman to finally say some version of "So it's over now, is it? I'll need to ring my children. They'll want to know that their dad's gone on. They loved him so." Never an acknowledgement of her love for the husband. It was much too personal, too difficult, too impossible to say to the young house officer with ten more hours on his rota and perhaps another woman awaiting his anointing of her as a widow. **

**His attention was returned to Joan Norton, as Chris felt her body stiffen and her head rise. "So then it seems," she nearly whispered, before being interrupted by an old gentlemen who shouted, "Louder, Joanie, louder!" **

"**Yes, of course," she raised her voice. "So then it seems that there is to be no wedding today. Martin and Louisa – my nephew Martin Ellingham and Louisa Glasson – have decided to not yet marry. Joan carefully taking the words, "not yet," from Louisa's note. **

**No gasps of disbelief greeted her announcement, no laughter even, Rather there was a universal nodding of heads, as if Joan had told them the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning. Nothing unexpected to be heard. The betting pool at the pub had correctly predicted the day's outcome. They had gone through the motions of attending Louisa's hen party, understanding Martin's refusal of a stag, taking time from their day to don their best dress and make their way to the church. Now, what they expected had happened, and they were resigned to it. Although it would soon occur to them that this was one very satisfactory topic of gossip.**

**As Joan's voice trailed off, Chris firmly took her arm and quickly walked her down the aisle. No need for her to make a stance, try to respond to anyone. He had to get her away from the church before she crumbled. Her few tears earlier were the precursor of what he knew would come. He must accomplish two things: allow her to cry and keep her away from Mart. Pauline Lamb and Roger Fenn were on their heels, and Chris turned to them saying: "Organise this please. I'll see to Aunt Joan." They nodded and looked to each other with resolve. He knew the matter was in good hands.**

**Blast, though, Michelle had dropped him at the church and taken the car to High Trees to fetch Mrs. Steele and Mr. Knolls for the wedding. Now, she held the car keys. Brilliant wife that she was, Michelle hurried up to him and Joan as they made their way to the car, handed him the keys and patted Joan on the arm saying: "Chris will see to everything." Then she kissed each of them on the cheek and turned back toward the crowd reluctantly leaving the church. **

"**This is very kind of you, Chris, but there's really no need. My truck is just over there. I am perfectly capable of driving into Martin's surgery. If you insist, you need only take me there. I'll have him bring me back for the truck after we've had tea and a bit of a talk." **

"**No, we're going to your farm, not to the surgery. I think Martin needs time alone to adjust – well to adapt - to what's happened. We can ring him and arrange for you to see him tomorrow if you like."**

"**Nonsense. I need to see him now. We could both have a chat with him. Explain he needs only a bit more time. Then we can have the wedding. A bit of a hiccup. Nothing more. That's right isn't it?"**

**Holding the car door for her, Chris said nothing as her hopeful smile was replaced by a pleading look that he agree with her. He was able to safely tuck her into the car and accelerate from the church car park before the reality reduced Joan to tears. Their drive to Havenhurst Farm was accompanied by the sobs of a woman who loved the groom nearly as much as the bride and by the calming voice of a man who realized not only the hearts of the bride and groom had been broken that day in Port Wenn. **

**Continued . . .**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4   
**

**Bride  
**

**It was astounding to Louisa Glasson that she could make her way from Martin's surgery to White Rose Cottage and encounter only one lone tourist who plaintively asked where everyone had gone. She responded: "A wedding. They're off to a wedding, but they'll return soon." **

**Louisa quickly unlocked the door of her home and slipped inside. Dusk was descending but there was sufficient light to see that her cottage was in disarray. Her luggage stood near the kitchen, ready for the honeymoon, and Isobel's case rested at the base of the stairs. It was meant to go upstairs where Isobel would squeeze her pregnant body into the bridesmaid dress she insisted on wearing for her best friend's wedding. **

**Instead, Isobel was a mum, cuddling her baby girl at hospital, planning a new life, just as Louisa had been doing until a few hours ago. Tomorrow would be soon enough to take Isobel's case to Truro. She simply could not manage tonight. Sleep had eluded her last night and then today – well, no one could blame her for not making the drive to hospital tonight. But perhaps she should. Dress in jeans and a jumper, pack a bag and remain in Truro for a day or so. Let things settle a bit in Port Wenn. The gossips would soon tire of the matter, and it would be safe to return to her village.**

**But would it still be her village? She would be doomed to share the small space with the man who thought so little of her that he would leave her at the church on their wedding day. People delighted in telling her of the hateful betting pool at the Crab with overwhelming odds that Martin would not appear at St. Margaret's. **

**But not one soul in the village thought she would fail to be at the church. Pub patrons had no bets that Louisa would not marry Martin. This should have been her forewarning. The villagers thought she was besotted with him. She thought she was besotted with him. But after a day of barbs from Roger and Pauline, let alone Isobel who didn't even know Martin, she wasn't so certain. **

**Caroline's call from Malta wishing her "all the best" was marred by unsettling questions: "Are you certain you're doing the right thing, Louisa? This is all very sudden, isn't it? Have you considered what your life will be with him?"**

**Holly rang, scolding Louisa for not inviting her to the wedding. Being Holly, however, the conversation soon turned to her view that financial security sometimes was more important than love. Snag the man now while she still had her looks; it did not become easier as one aged. Louisa protested that she did love Martin, but Holly's parting comment, "Well, if he makes you happy, that's all that matters," left her shaken. **

**Never had Louisa felt so alone. Her mother was living in Spain and her father was counting days in prison. No matter. She had no true relationship with either. They would have thrown up their hands saying: "whatever you want to do, Lou Lou." This had been their parenting style since her birth. Why would they suddenly become supportive or helpful? She had planned to send each a postcard from the honeymoon saying she had married Martin. Nothing more. Her father might recall him; her mother knew nothing of Martin. How could she? **

**First, she must shed this dress. This pretty, pretty dress she had found in a shop window and immediately knew was perfect. Although it fit her well, the shop owner explained it was only a sample, and a new dress could be made in four weeks. She hadn't the time with the wedding only days away, so Louisa left the shop with the sample dress and the discount which came with it. **

**Afterward, she had mistakenly entered another shop filled with beautiful, expensive lingerie. Not the tawdry bits and pieces the bridal shop offered but exquisite gowns of the softest fabrics. "Silk from Japan," the clerk reverently whispered. "Your new husband will be enchanted." She gasped as the woman arrayed several on a table and suppressed a gasp when she surreptitiously looked at the prices. More expensive than the wedding dress! **

**Frugal from necessity, Louisa dressed well but in reasonably priced clothing with the occasional splashing out for the irresistible cardigan or flattering dress. But these gowns cost more than any one of those pieces. Never mind! She must have one. She could not stop caressing the fabric and imagining Martin's response when she appeared in the gown on their wedding night. **

**The night before her shopping trip to Truro, Louisa was in tatty pyjamas when he unexpectedly arrived at her door following a late night house call. She apologized, but he assured her it did not matter what she wore. Just once, though, she wanted Martin to react to her in an alluring garment, and any of these gowns would certainly have an effect on him. **

**Their couplings over the last few weeks had been lovely and much more ardent and satisfying than Louisa expected from a man of Martin's restrained ways. Intimacy was the one time he was unguarded, truly himself, sweet, lovable, passionate. Did she finally have a little insight into the true Martin Ellingham? Of course not. His behaviour today had shown how little she knew or understood him. **

**Her first thought was to return the gown, but then she would have to tell the clerk that there had been no wedding. Suffering the mockery of the village could be endured. But telling a stranger of the mistake she nearly made was too humiliating. She would keep the gown as a reminder of the pathetic turn her life had taken.**

**Louisa unzipped the dress and stepped out of it, careful not to damage it. She could sell it and the veil through one of the thrift shops she visited before finding the sample dress. There would be no need of the dress – ever. Louisa now understood that she would never marry. She would be what the elderly spinsters called themselves: "unclaimed flowers." Or, the question could be posed, were they "blossoms protected by thorns?" Too prickly to allow men near them. **

**With that she hurried upstairs, gathered her toiletry kit and tossed it into her bag along with jeans, underwear, several jerseys and the tatty pyjamas. She pulled on grey wool trousers and added a black jumper and flats. Descending the stairs, a shadow appeared in the door's window. Oh, God, it mustn't be Martin. **

**All of her courage had been consumed in delivering the letter to his surgery, and she was astonished that he was there rather than the church. His tortured explanation that he would not make _her_ happy was rubbish. Yet Louisa was shattered by his comment that she would not make _him_ happy. Until then, she thought there was some possibility for them. A way to work through their differences. But the man she loved said she would not make him happy. What could she do with that but flee?**

**Hearing first the bell, then a tentative knock, she called "Whose, there?"**

"**Anthony, Anthony Oakwood, Louisa. I've delivered your letter to Roger Fenn. Everything's in hand at the church." **

**She opened the door and pulled him inside. "Anthony, one more favour. Could you please fetch my car from the harbour." **

"**Louisa, you shouldn't be driving tonight. You've had a shock and must rest. Remain at your cottage for a few days. You don't have to see people immediately, but you can't withdraw from them either. Everyone wants to help you."**

"**Anthony, that's very kind of you, but I feel a bit off and need to clear my head. Please help me with the car. People are coming back from the church, and I can't bear seeing them tonight. Let me get away for a few days. I'll be fine. You know me - strong woman, brave girl – that sort of thing."**

"**Okay, then, but please promise you'll ring me if you feel overwhelmed. You might talk with your GP about a referral to a psychologist who could help you cope with this trauma."**

"**Trauma! Oh, Anthony, that's a bit overly-dramatic, don't you think? Martin and I decided not to marry. It was completely mutual. We're both fine with it. You can help most by bringing my car round to the cottage."**

**After handing him the keys, Louisa picked up her raincoat and took an umbrella from the stand. You never knew what storms November might bring. Several minutes later, Oakwood arrived with the car and placed her bag in the boot along with Isobel's case. **

"**You've been very kind, Anthony, and I appreciate everything you've done for me today." After entering her car, Louisa waved cheerily to him as she drove away from Port Wenn.**

**She remained in a stupefied state as she carefully made her way from the village and along the narrow moor lanes. The road to Truro was more easily managed, and Louisa's tension lessened as she entered the city. Being away for a bit was all that she needed. But moving along Duke Street in search of the B&B she remembered from last week, Louisa saw the lingerie shop. **

**Closed for the night, the shop was far enough from the diners and revelers on New Bridge and Quay Streets that no one noticed her small car carelessly slip to the kerb. No one but a solitary dogwalker whose Collie became agitated on hearing a wailing from the car. "Nearly a keening, a lamentation," the retired vicar would later describe the sound to his wife. "Did you see if help was needed," the wife asked. "No, the car left before I could reach it." **

**Through her tears Louisa had seen the man and dog approach her car and quickly drove away, still howling with the pain she could no longer contain.**

**Continued . . . **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

**Groom**

**After watching Louisa walk away from him, Martin tended to the annoying dry cleaner by giving him tablets against the pain in his arthritic leg and a prescription for a scan in Truro. The man complained having to drive so far with his bothersome leg, and Martin responded: "Fine. You know better than I. Treat your leg as you please. Only don't come whinging to me when the pain becomes worse." **

**The man hobbled from his surgery shouting: "You're not fit to treat chickens. I pity Louisa Glasson for marrying you. She'll soon regret it." **

**Closing the door firmly behind the patient, Martin locked it, switched off the surgery lights and walked to the kitchen. There he filled the pot with water for tea and took up Thursday's edition of "The Times." It arrived by post today, and he occupied his mind wondering why he continued reading the London paper with the news always two days old. **

**Even the witless woman who phoned him once a year to renew his subscription suggested that he might change to the online version. Newspapers were losing money and not having the cost of post would save all around. Didn't he want to take advantage of this lower-cost service? Louisa had been with him in the kitchen when he took the most recent call, cunningly made in the evening to catch him unawares. **

**After he ended the conversation by insisting he still wanted the newspaper sent by post, Louisa teased him about not changing with the times. She found a recent edition in the recycling bin and began to read aloud reports which she claimed had no relevance to life in Port Wenn. He snatched it from her and pointed out several items which did indeed affect them: rising petrol prices, the coup in South America which halted coffee exports. She needn't be so narrow-minded. **

**Laughing, Louisa had leaned over his shoulder and begun to kiss his neck as she messed about with the newspaper he held. He made weak protestations, but as her hands moved to his chest and buttons were opened, "The Times" was forgotten. After discarding their clothes, they failed to reach upstairs, but urgently made love on the lounge sofa. Several hours later they did take the stairs to his bedroom where they first groggily then eagerly reached for each other once more. **

**The next morning, Martin discovered on the kitchen floor a lacy, pink bra which he grabbed seconds before Pauline entered the room to brew her tea. His infuriating receptionist had taken every opportunity to make lewd, tasteless remarks to Martin since the engagement, and spying the bra would have emboldened her. **

**Although discombobulated, he was able to croak "good morning" to Pauline and then rattle off a list of tasks she was to perform that day. As she took up her tea, she mumbled: "Someone had a bad night." If only she knew. There had been no bad nights since Louisa agreed to marry him. Either they spent the nights together or spoke to each other by phone before sleep overcame them. Martin could not remember resting so peacefully or comfortably since first seeing Louisa Glasson on that blasted flight to Cornwall. **

**Many nights thoughts of her interrupted his sleep, and he would lie awake recalling an encounter with her that day. Some meetings were frustrating, some painful, and some delightful. He did not distinguish among them as Louisa was there, and that was all that mattered.**

**An acrid smell roused Martin, and he rushed to the whistling kettle which had been boiling for many minutes. The water was nearly gone and the hot surface emitted a burning odor. He dropped the empty kettle into the kitchen sink and opened the cold water tap to cool it. **

**Turning the tap handle was quite painful, and he looked distractedly at his right hand only to see a red welt rising where he had grabbed the hot kettle. He plunged his hand into the cold water and quickly diagnosed signs of a first degree burn. Treatment needed: ointment and light gauze dressing. Or nothing. He almost wanted the pain to force his mind away from Louisa and the bloody, horrible mess he had made of today. **

**As his hand grew numb from the cold water, his mobile rang. He could retrieve it from his pocket with one hand but not easily answer it. He hadn't bothered to switch the phone to the Wadebridge surgery where Donald Galbraith would cover his emergency patients. There was now no need. Withdrawing his hand from the water, he dried it but the pain remained. He opened his phone and saw two messages from the same number: Chris Parsons. No need to call him. He obviously knew what happened. He would ring Chris on Monday saying Galbraith need not manage Port Wenn. He would open surgery as usual. **

**Now his hand was throbbing from the burn, and he walked into the surgery where he applied an antibacterial, then salve and was able to cover the area with gauze. Slowly the pain ebbed as he stood at the window watching the tide come in. It was a fascinating sight as the water traveled slowly into the mouth of the harbour, causing the boats to bob about. The first time he watched the tide come in from this window, he had made the foolhardy decision to remain in the village. But it wasn't for the tide, he admitted to Louisa only last night. He stayed in Portwenn for her. For the hope of her, actually.**

**Then he heard a loud knock on the surgery door and chose to ignore it. His mobile rang again, and he unthinkingly answered it. "Ellingham, open the damn door," shouted Chris Parsons from his phone. **

"**No," he shouted back. **

"**Look, Mart, I only want to make certain you're okay. Now let me in." **

"**No, go away Chris." **

"**Dr. Ellingham, I'm not here as your friend, I'm here as your boss, and I'm ordering you to open the door. Now." **

**Martin made his way through the reception area, and flung open the door. "Who's complained now? That idiotic dry cleaner. It's not my fault he's in pain. I gave him proper medication and ordered a scan. My treatment was correct. Bugger all if he fails to follow it." **

**Grinning at the umbrage Ellingham took over the slightest intimation that he had failed in his duty of care, Chris said; "Calm yourself. I lied to you. Your aunt insisted I see you or she'll visit you herself."**

"**Oh, no," he groaned only imagining Joan's state following today's events. Their dinner last night with Louisa, right here in the surgery, had been so cozy. Joan had brought Champagne, which she could ill-afford, then made a charming toast welcoming Louisa to the Ellingham family, but with no apologies. **

**With her welcome to Louisa, Martin realized he would now truly have a family, and that his aunt had made it possible. Urging him to see Louisa after the concert cock-up had changed his life forever. He was overjoyed and not only from his small glass of Champagne. There with the two women he loved, he saw a release from the grim life his parents had foisted on him. A future he did not fear awaited him. Now he had ruined it, ruined everything. **

"**Chris, is Joan at the church still?"**

"**No, I took her to the farm. Mrs. Steele and a few of her friends arrived soon after with Michelle. They'll stay the night with her. When I left they were drinking tea with whiskey, and I had to pull Michelle away. She's gone to fetch takeaway for them, and I'll make my way to the hotel."**

**"Fine. I'll ring Aunty Joan. Possibly tonight if you think that would help."**

**"Yes, get it over with Martin. I can tell you she didn't take it all that well at first, but by the time I left Havenhurst, the old girls had gotten a laugh or two from her. She'll be fine. Your Aunt Joan's like my Mum. They get on with things.**

"**Do you want me to look in on Louisa, Mart? She said in her note not to bother her for a few days, but I really think someone should see her. Do you want to come with me?"**

"**A note. From Louisa?"**

"**That's right. She had her neighbour bring a note to the church saying there would be no wedding. Your aunt told everyone, and most of them stayed on for the food and drink. I brought Joan to her farm, because she was a bit muddled, and I knew trying to explain things would make her feel worse. **

"**But what the bloody hell happened, Mart? This morning when we talked, you sounded – well – excited. I saw you only days ago, and you were happy, really happy. Something I never thought I would see again with Martin Ellingham. Did you say something stupid that made Louisa call it off? I warned you about those weird diagnoses. What did you do to her, Mart?"**

"**I did nothing. I only realized that I would never make her happy, and quite frankly she wouldn't make me happy. Why marry someone under those circumstances?"**

"**Oh, good Lord, Mart. Marriage isn't only about happiness. Michelle and I have a great marriage, but we've not been happy every minute of every hour. In fact, sometimes we haven't been happy for days or even months at a time. It's not about being happy, it's about getting through what life tosses at you and knowing you will be happy again together. **

"**You know how Michelle got me through med school, she's done that with everything since. She was the one who had me ring you when we heard what happened at St. Thomas's. When you put me off, she made me stick with you. That's what marriage does. It makes each of you better, because there's another person to bring out the best in you. **

"**If I didn't have Michelle, I probably would be fat, bald and working in a care home in East London, just as that bitch Montgomery predicted. Well, I am bald, but I have a great job and life because of Michelle – but mostly because of you. Now come with me to see Louisa. You've got to talk with her, Mart. The sooner the better, I'd say."**

**Closing his eyes, Martin knew Chris was right. Their earlier talk at the surgery made him regret his decision. She was so lovely. Perhaps it wasn't too late. **

**They walked quickly and silently to White Rose Cottage, each devising a plan. Chris thought to hand off Martin quickly to Louisa and let nature take its course. He could then excuse himself and hope that Michelle would return soon to the hotel.**

**Martin knew that Louisa would be civil if Chris were with him. Parsons need only smooth the waters and depart. He would then tell Louisa he was wrong about his decision not to marry her. Wrong about everything in fact.**

**No lights shone through the cottage windows, but Martin rang the doorbell and stood tall awaiting Louisa. A second ring and a knock at the door produced no response, and Chris suggested he phone her. They could hear her mobile ringing through the windows, but no one took it up. Next door, Terri Oakwood heard first Louisa's doorbell and then her phone and commented to Anthony: "Poor Louisa was in such a hurry to leave, she's forgotten her mobile." **

"**Let me see who's there, then. I'll say she'll not be here for a few days."**

**Poking his head from the door, Anthony was surprised to see the two of them. "Chris, Dr. Ellingham! Louisa's gone off to Truro to see her friend's baby. Said she'd be back in a few days but it seems she's forgotten her mobile."**

**Oakwood irritated Martin; nonetheless, he asked where Louisa might be staying in Truro. "I don't know. She asked me to fetch her car and said she'd be gone for a few days. I recommended she not travel what with the shock and such, but I couldn't convince her. I asked her to phone me if she feels overwhelmed, that sort of thing. Should I hear from her, I'll ask her to ring you Dr. Ellingham."**

"**Thank you, uhm, Dr. Oakwood."**

**Turning back to the cottage, Chris said, "It's not good that Louisa's gone off like that. She has to be shattered. Maybe we should search her out in Truro."**

**Martin shook his head in resignation. He knew Louisa would want to be alone. That was how she coped with things. He did understand that much about her. **

"**Look Mart, come to the hotel with me, have dinner. We can sort this out. There's a solution to be had."**

"**No, Chris, I'm tired. Let me return to the surgery and think this through. You go on to the hotel."**

**Chris nodded. Of course Ellingham would want to be alone, just as Louisa did. Why lean on people when you can make yourself miserable all alone. **

**At the surgery Martin loosened the gauze on his hand and added a bit more salve to his wound. Then he filled a glass with water and returned to the kitchen table and "The Times." It didn't matter that the kitchen was growing darker. He didn't think to switch on a light. He wasn't reading the old news. He was watching his tears fall to the paper. **

**Continued . . . **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**

**Reception  
**

**Edith was relieved as she gave Nicholas a final goodnight kiss following Miss Blake's wedding. Unlike his nightly routine in New York, her son settled easily into bed with no fears about switching off the lamp, goblins under the bed, that sort of thing. The fact that he was sharing a room with his 8-year-old cousin, Charlie, was not the only reason Nick was more secure. She put it down to her mother and Charmaine. **

**Today with his friends - something else he lacked in New York – Nicholas appeared happy and at ease. They teased him, and he gave as good as he got during their play. At the reception, her nieces Judith and Jane - the one with the stud in her nose - lead his year two schoolmates onto the dance floor set up in Mum's barn. Helen's staff and teachers from the school had strung faerie lights onto the ceiling and along the pale blue drapes used to line the walls. It was quite charming. Little wonder the London crowd favoured her wedding services, Edith begrudgingly thought. **

**The bride and groom joined the children in a long conga line, and Judith had pulled a reluctant Edith along with them. After that the children swarmed the dance floor with their parents, and Edith could not remember when she last enjoyed herself so much. The haughty Aspey Wright-Haven and her brother, Arthur, became the center of attention with their nearly-choreographed dance routines. Would her brother never stop surprising her?**

**Norwood and Albert Wu, Lilly's two sons, continued to work for Arthur in Larchmont and were now married. They brought their young wives to meet Edith, and she could only imagine the conversation between the two brothers preceding the introduction. How exactly did you tell your wives that they were about to meet the ex-wife of your third step-father who was the sister of your boss?**

**Edith could not resist asking about Edwin and Lilly and was surprised to learn that Lilly was spending a good bit of time with her aged mother in Toronto, whilst Edwin was about to retire from McGill Medical School. Norwood thought his mum would likely return to England after her mother's death – but without Edwin. Edith did not take pleasure from this news and actually felt sad for both of them, particularly Edwin. He would be retired and alone in Montreal. **

**After one last look to Nicholas and a blown good night kiss to Charlie, Edith descended to the kitchen. There her mother, sisters-in-law and mums from the wedding committee were sipping Champagne. Edith hated to drink because she felt terrible after its initial effects had waned. If she ever bothered to test for it, she suspected she might have some sort of allergy to alcohol. **

**Normally, she could not bear socializing with women, especially those who cackled about sex and made silly innuendos about the wedding night. It was the 21st Century and certainly no one in the room thought Mr. Parker would be called upon to deflower Miss Blake that night! But that was the topic of conversation.**

**A raised eyebrow from her mum forced Edith into a chair and then into accepting a glass of Champagne from someone named Samantha. One by one the women began recalling how they met their first and only husbands. Edith knew she must say something soon and had a second glass of Champagne to gather her wits. How else could she make her seductions of Edwin and Patrick sound less unseemly than they actually were? **

**Fortunately, Alice – the mum of Charlie's best friend - had a long tale about trying to gain her husband's attention as they laboured together in a chartered accountancy office. The shenanigans she and her office mates devised to make the match were hilarious, and Edith's turn was forgotten. **

**Soon afterward, the women declared the wedding perfect and exchanged congratulatory hugs all around. Edith did not cringe as several women wished her goodnight as "Eve" "Edna," and "Ellie," but miraculously not "Edie." After the mums left, the Montgomery women filled their glasses with the remaining Champagne, and Edith realized she was feeling quite good. Almost as good as she felt on the dance floor moving about to the music and not thinking about her boring life in Truro. She would stay the year as she promised Walter Zeffren, but not a day longer. Going from life in Manhattan to Truro was not relaxing but stressful. **

**At the Zeffren Clinic she was highly respected and got along well with everyone, particularly the patients who constantly curried favour with her. The Royal Cornwall Hospital was another matter. Throughout her career, most women scorned her while male colleagues – except for the occasional gay man – gave her a wide berth. They envied her professionally but clearly regarded her as a bitch, a description which mostly reflected the truth. **

**Lacey Woods often entertained her with gossip gleaned about Edith as she chatted her way through the hospital. One day Lacey hesitated telling the latest bit as she thought it might offend even Edith. "The boney trollop," she finally reported. "They call you the boney trollop."**

"**How perfectly Edwardian of them," Edith laughed. "I've been called many things, but this is the first for 'trollop.' I almost feel honoured. But then I'd expect nothing less coming from a group of pudgy women who had their last orgasm riding a pony at age 15."**

**Yes, she definitely must return to London. Meanwhile, she would take herself to bed where she knew sleep would capture her quickly. After kissing her mother good night and offering rare hugs to Charmaine and Helen, Edith made her way to the bedroom her parents had used before the new space was created for them. It had been Dad's library and was filled with books. If she failed to nod off, she could always read. Then another idea came to her, and she actually had the courage to carry it off. Late hour be damned, she would ring Martin Ellingham. Southwood was right. She had delayed the call much too long. **

**Chris Parsons had provided Ellingham's surgery number but not his mobile. She scrolled to Martin's name, but realized she was becoming wobbly and sat herself at Dad's old desk before pressing the number. After four rings an answerphone message - recorded in a sonorous voice she instantly recognized - identified the number as Dr. Ellingham's surgery in Port Wenn. If this were a genuine medical emergency, call the Waderidge surgery. If it appeared to be life threatening, call an ambulance. If this were a routine matter leave a message. Telephone numbers were provided for the first two services. **

**With the fawning answerphone greetings she was accustomed to, his precise, cryptic message was quite refreshing. "Good on you, Ellingham," she chortled. But she did not want to leave a message on a phone likely monitored by his practise manager. **

**The Champagne held Edith in its thrall and a clearer-headed woman would not have made the next call. Thinking to wheedle Martin's mobile number from Chris Parsons, she scrolled to his setting. **

**Michelle Parsons had returned from Aunt Joan's farm to the Port Wenn hotel and her waiting husband about 10 minutes ago. Rather than being exhausted by the day, she threw off her clothes and slipped into bed and the welcoming arms of Chris. He, too, should have been exhausted but he gratefully pulled Michelle to him. Then his mobile rang. **

"**Ignore it, Michelle. Nothing's happened to the children. It's a wrong number. Please don't make me answer it." **

"**You know what my sister's like, Chris. If we don't answer she'll tell everyone at Christmas that we're neglectful parents."**

**Chris slowly rolled away from his wife and took up the phone. Without glasses he could not see the number, but assumed it was Michelle's annoying sister. She likely worked out what they would be doing and made the call intentionally. Blast her.**

"**Hullo, Sarah, is there something wrong with the children?" he tried to speak calmly.**

"**Who's this," slurred Edith. "Chris Parsons, who the bloody hell do you think it is, Sarah. You called me." **

"**This isn't Sarah, this is Edith, Edith Montgomery, Parsons. Give me Ellingham's mobile number, I want to talk with him about coming back to London. Robert Southwood's angry with me because I was to ring him months ago."**

"**Montgomery, are you drunk? It's half ten and you're bothering me for a number I refused to give you. Now go sleep it off and phone me only at my office. And try not to do that. I've had a long day and need rest. And from the sound of your voice, you do as well. Take a paracetamol or two and drink plenty of liquids. You're going to feel horrible in the morning. Now good night."**

**Chris slammed his phone on the side table and turned back to Michelle who asked: "Who's Montgomery? What did he want?" Of course, Chris hadn't said a word to her about Edith Montgomery. If he had, Michelle would want to invite her for a meal, meet the children, all the things Chris did not want. This was going to ruin the night, but one way or the other, Michelle would extract it from him. **

"**Actually, it was Edith Montgomery. She's back in England, living in Truro and running the Zeffren Clinic. But she works one day a week at Royal Cornwall and is helping with the PCT's gynae programs."**

"**You're kidding, Chris. Edith Montgomery! My God, has she talked to Martin? Is that why he wouldn't marry Louisa?"**

"**No, no. She hasn't talked to him. He would have told me. Just now she wanted his mobile number. I'd given her his surgery number but knew not to provide his mobile. She sounded drunk and was muttering something about Robert Southwood wanting him back in London. God knows what those two have come up with. It's none of our business. Let's not think about it." **

**Before Michelle could respond, Chris somewhat desperately kissed her, determined not to let anything else spoil their precious night together. Michelle tried to pull away, but then succumbed to Chris. Her need for him overcame her interest in talking about the increasingly bizarre events of today. **

**Elsewhere in Port Wenn, Martin Ellingham emerged from the shower after taking hours to gather enough strength to climb the stairs. The weight of his actions today had pounded him into a stupor, and he must gain control of himself. He would force himself to sleep and just get on with it. **

**Parsons was right, a solution was to be had. It would be awkward seeing Louisa around Port Wenn, but he had endured far worse. But then there was no reason to remain in the village. GP posts were available all over England. Although the villagers did not like him, they trusted his medical care. Chris reported he was well-regarded in the PCT, so he could easily find another post.**

**Hidden in the back of his mind was the niggling thought he never let escape: could he return to surgery? The names of many psychologists and psychiatrists had been given to him. Someone must be able to help. Could he dare see one and sort out the whole matter of his phobia? **

**Reaching for the burn salve, he noticed his surgery phone. No light appeared, but he checked the answerphone to be certain there were no calls. One had appeared 15 minutes ago, but with no message. He looked through the numbers and saw it came from a Truro exchange. Likely someone rang his surgery by mistake. **

**Smoothing salve onto his hand, Martin pondered what to do about his life. Like Louisa, until hours ago he thought his life finally had a plan. A plan centered around his future with her. Nothing else seemed very important as long as he had Louisa. Now he would never have her. **

**It was his weird diagnoses that pushed her away. He actually told Louisa she would not make him happy. He still didn't know why he parroted Porter's words to her. They were gibberish, but coming from a vicar, shouldn't they be profound? Louisa didn't think so. Now he realized they were only the stupid ramblings of a mentally-incompetent man. How could he have been so duped by a vicar?**

**Pulling back the duvet, then the sheet, Martin climbed into bed. A bed shared a few precious times with the woman he loved. The bed they should have shared as husband and wife tonight. But now the night was ruined. Now his life was ruined. And he really didn't understand how he had managed to do it in such a very convincing way. **

**Continued . . . **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Sleep**

**After losing sight of the collie and her master, Louisa spotted the B&B and drove into a small car park a house away. Her reflection in the car mirror was a bit unsettling: smeared mascara, red nose, tangled hair. Something must be done. She scrubbed at her face with a tissue and then blew her nose. Starting to pull her hair into a ponytail, she stopped and let it fall from her hands. No need to keep her hair tidy. She finished by taking a pair of reading specs from her purse and slipping them on. Presentable enough to enter the B&B.**

**The teenage son of the owner greeted her with the news that she was the only guest and could have her choice of rooms. It was the off season for tourists and the rate was quite reasonable if she stayed the week. Why not? She was to be off school the next week, and plans were in place for Sally Chadwick and several teachers to manage her duties. No need to return to Port Wenn. **

**The young man took her to a pleasant room at the rear of the house and proudly described his mother's garden now obscured by the night. "Roses and such. A few are still blooming. My mum will bring your tea there if that's what you'll want. She's quite good with the breakfasts as well. If you fancy a fry up she'll have it for you. Dad says she puts herself out too much, but she likes it. I'm the last one at home. My sisters are both married. Two babies each they have. Mum and Dad are visiting my sister, Moira, but will return in the morning. I can give you a list of restaurants if you like."**

**Louisa smiled in an effort to calm his nervous chattering. Likely his mother thought no guests would come to the B&B that day, and it was safe to leave it to him. "No, I'm a bit tired. I'll just have a lie down now. You've been very helpful," she reassured him. **

**Removing only her coat, Louisa fell to the bed and sleep. That night, and in the next few months as sleep became her sole comfort, she would think of a Celtic fairystory told by her father. It was of Caer Ibor Meith, the goddess of sleep, who transformed herself into a swan as she slept. One night the swan goddess encountered Aengus Moc Og, the god of love, also in the form of a swan. They spent their dreams together joyfully singing and floating about the nighttime sky. Dad lured her to sleep with the promise that her dreams would be better than their pinched life in Port Wenn. **

**The next day she was awakened by the owner of the B&B calling softly at the door: "Miss Glasson, it's near noon. Will you be wanting any breakfast. Or shall I have a lunch for you?" **

**Groggy and stiff, Louisa had responded in a hoarse voice: "No, I must be off to hospital to visit my friend. Thank you, though."**

**Isobel's mother, Frances, had arrived at the Royal Cornwall to bring her daughter and new baby home to St. Austell. Before Louisa could say hello to Isobel, Frances admonished her: "Make certain you don't get yourself in this way, Louisa. Late 30s, a baby, no man about. What are you girls thinking now? A child still needs a father, no matter what the magazines say."**

**Louisa could only nod meekly as she wanted to keep some bit of peace between Isobel and her mum. As it was Isobel was bursting to know why Louisa was in Truro rather than on her honeymoon. She finally blurted: "How was the wedding? You were to be off to Greece for the week. Are you leaving from Truro later today?"**

"**Honeymoon," exclaimed Frances. "Well you had the good sense to get married, Louisa. More than I can say for Isobel. Tell me about your wedding." **

**And there it was. The first time Louisa would have to explain what happened yesterday. Why she didn't – really couldn't - marry Martin. In the end she told a subdued Isobel and her dumbstruck mother that she and Martin had mutually decided not to proceed with the wedding. That was all she could say, because she really had to sort out why she decided not to appear at the church. Not to marry Martin. **

**Since encountering him on the plane to Cornwall, she had been fascinated by him, despite being annoyed by his creepy behaviour and what she considered his London arrogance during the interview. Nothing was normal or typical in their odd courtship, if it could even be called that. They had an attraction to each other, but neither seemed able to move beyond a few kisses and attempts at dates. Their longest time together had been Holly's concert. **

**That night had been a revelation. There was a strong sexual tension between them, and she thought Martin was finally reciprocating her romantic interest. She easily overlooked his awkwardness with Holly and then Joan's friend, Annie. Little enough to put up with to be in Martin's company. Overly-confident in their new-found comfort, she had rashly pulled him into the copse of trees and kissed him. Her stomach would still drop as she recalled his chilling response: It was her menstrual cycle, rather than any affection for him, that prompted the kiss. So much for romance. She could try no more. She had to be done with him. His comment, she was certain, was his way of pushing her away. **

**The next day when he asked her to marry him, she had agreed without thinking. It was what she wanted, what she dreamed of, but thought there was no hope. Having the man you admired, respected and – God help her – loved suddenly realize he wanted what you did, demanded an agreement. **

**The time between the proposal and their wedding day had been filled with sweet discoveries, both of their passion for each other and his unexpected kindness toward her. So blinded by the hope that her love was enough for a marriage, Louisa failed to think clearly about a life with Martin. **

**They knew little of each other, their habits or how they could live together. Their nights were blissful, but their days were filled with their jobs and the need to make quick decisions about the wedding and moving house. Louisa did not even know they were to have a honeymoon until the night before the wedding. While dining with Joan, Martin offhandedly told his aunt that that they would be traveling to Greece on Sunday for a week-long trip. **

"**Oh, Greece," Louisa recalled saying. "How lovely." Try as she might to consider it an endearing gesture by Martin, she was a bit uneasy that he had not even consulted her. **

**On what was to be their wedding day, she simply came undone as nasty words were spoken about Martin by those she considered her friends. But she had to agree with many of their observations. She had witnessed Martin's disdain for the villagers, his brusque behaviour, his impatience with those only trying to do their jobs. The more she thought about it and dressed for the wedding, she knew she could not marry him. Feminine intuition, perhaps, but she saw nothing good coming of it. Martin would be the same, and she did not want to marry the same. She could not do it. **

**Telling Isobel and Frances good bye, Louisa assured them she would be fine. It had been nothing more than a silly mistake. She and Martin would still be friends. Nothing to worry about at all. She would see them at Christmas.**

**"Look, Louisa, you can do this," she muttered to herself as she walked away from the hospital. In her car, she leafed through the tourist booklet from the B&B, and then drove to the leisure center at Truro College. At the swim hall she bought a bright yellow swimsuit and minutes later stepped into the warm pool. Like her sleep the previous night, Louisa lost herself in the tranquil water. She dove under the pool's surface for long minutes, coming up for air only at the last second. **

**Several times the pool attendant shouted to her "Miss, come out for a bit. You'll be chilled when you leave the pool and catch cold. Give yourself a rest now." For once, her usually-obedient self ignored him, and she continued to dive and surface, dive and surface. No one need tell her what to do. She was on her own again and could do as she pleased. **

**It was dark when she left the center and her rumbling stomach told her she hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch. From a small shop, she bought yoghurt and an apple, then ate them in her car. Still hungry, she returned to the shop for a chocolate bar which she gobbled on her return drive to the B&B. At barely eight, she fell asleep. **

**The next few days were taken up by swimming at the leisure center and wandering about the small city. Unencumbered by a schedule, Louisa attended mid-day organ recitals at Truro Cathedral and lectures at the Hall for Cornwall. **

**On Thursday, it was raining after her swim, and she hurried to her car for an appointment in Truro. That night she did not retire early, but rather went to a restaurant for her first proper meal since last Friday's dinner with Martin and Joan. The roasted chicken, potatoes and peas were accompanied by a glass of white wine and then a second glass. **

**How delicious, she thought, but her stomach did not agree. Hurrying to the toilet, she vomited out the dinner and the wine, feeling quite shaken. Her fault really. She must eat more than tea and toast in the morning and the bits of fruit, biscuits and chocolate she bought as she walked about Truro. Tomorrow morning she would ask for eggs or porridge at the B&B. Much as she did not want to, she would force herself to eat regularly. She had to be fit to teach the following week. Her position as head teacher was more important to her than ever. **

**When she arrived at school on Monday, it seemed her staff had planned how they would manage the matter of the wedding. No one said a thing. But their welcoming smiles faded to startled looks as they saw her hair. It had been cut into a stylish bob, longer at the sides and shorter in the back. Only her fringe remained from when they last saw her. As their first step in closing ranks around Louisa, the teachers hugged her, some ruffled her hair and assured her that she looked beautiful. More beautiful, in fact, thought those who knew her well. **

**For the first time in several months, Louisa looked rested and happy. She was not short-tempered and distracted. Now she was enthusiastic and laughed easily over the children's antics. The efficient, intelligent Louisa Glasson had returned to Port Wenn Primary. Nothing assured the teachers more that she had made the right decision in not marrying Doc Martin than having their confident head teacher back. **

**At her cottage that evening, Louisa hurried through her school work, so that she might retreat to the oblivion of sleep. Waking ten hours later, she still craved the peaceful world she had only just left. Sleep had become the substitute for the dream she had of a life with Martin. **

**One of the lectures in Truro was given by an enchanting septuagenarian who had recently published her first volume of poetry. The book had been forty years in the writing whilst she raised seven children and cared for her aging parents and those of her husband. Exhorting the spellbound audience to let nothing end their dreams, she said: "A dream dies an ugly death and once dead is hard to resurrect." **

**Louisa shuddered as she realized her dream of Martin was dead. No miracle could bring it back. She had to forge a new life for herself and forget the time she had wasted yearning for Martin Ellingham. Several weeks later her need for a new life became even more imperative. Three days before Christmas she pressed a number on her telephone contact list to make that new life begin. **

**Continued. . . .**

**Author's note: My thanks to the reviewer, Partsguy, for providing the quote contained in the penultimate paragraph. He extrapolated it from the Dan Fogelberg song: "Make Love Stay." **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
**

**Busy**

**The only reason Martin Ellingham recognized the approach of Christmas was the appearance in mid-December of "The Times" list of suggested gift books. He finally turned to the newspaper three days before Christmas and did so with a sense of relief. It meant that he had successfully ended an outbreak of influenza among the village children, which was threatening the adults as well. He had worked long days seeing patients and phoning parents at night to ensure that children were being hydrated and fevers monitored. Reading the necessary was all he could manage.**

**Before consulting the list of books, he turned to the obituaries. Morbid to others, he always scanned them for names of former teachers, professors from Oxford and St. Mary's and now even colleagues from his years as a surgeon. He winced on reading that Stanley Jaffe, his anatomy tutor from Oxford, had died nearly two weeks ago. Among the survivors was his daughter, Harriett, who had been at St. Mary's with him. Losing touch with his colleagues had been one of the things he hated most about the haemophobia. **

**The illness had forced him away from the medical community that provided his professional identity. Now he was simply a GP worrying about diarrhea, poor diets and the hygiene habits of people who did not worry for themselves. His father was right to be embarrassed by him. On his most honest days, which were becoming more frequent, he was embarrassed by himself. No one need tell him that the name Martin Ellingham would always be accompanied by the word "regrettable," in London medical circles. **

**He quickly turned to the book list, where one title caught his eye immediately: "Henry G. Montgomery." According to the review, the biography of the long-time member of the House of Commons and a major British figure in Cold War détente would provide significant insight into the important role England played in ending that unfortunate phase of world history. **

**It went on to note that Mr. Montgomery's seat in Parliament was now held by his son, Simon, a rising voice in the Conservative party. The Hertfordshire district he once represented included the family home, Larchmont Hall, where his beloved wife -Dr. Rose Montgomery - maintained an equine surgery for nearly 50 years. The names, occupations and locations of the other five Montgomery children were stated. Martin's breath caught on reading that Edith now lived in England. She must have returned after he departed London; otherwise, he would have learned of it. **

**A recent photo of Henry Montgomery showed a thin man with blank eyes softened by a slight smile and a head raised to the camera. Next to him was a woman Martin easily recognized as Rose Montgomery. She, too, was thin but looked much the same as she had 20 years ago. Her smile was somewhat defiant, and Martin had seen that expression often on the wives of patients. But he did not understand its meaning until he came to Port Wenn. Now he knew what that defiant countenance indicated: one might see a frail old man but, by God, this man had a place in the world and was well loved by his wife and family. **

**Martin saw the same defiance and love in Aunt Joan's eyes several months after his arrival in the village. As she read from the journal kept during her Phil's last months, she wanted Martin to understand that it was his energy and wits that made Havenhurst Farm possible. She and his father may have owned the farm, but Phil made a go of it.**

**Uncle Phil had died a terrible death from a wasting illness that was horrid for Joan to witness. But the journal entries were more joyful than sad as the indignities he suffered reminded Joan of her healthy, strong husband. The hand that could no longer hold a teacup once wielded a hammer in building the barn single-handedly. From his drug-induced mutterings, she recalled the words he would whisper to her after making love. **

**It was all too intimate for Martin, and he could not listen to Joan read more than a few passages. But he did take the journal with him and found himself much more fascinated with his aunt's writings than he could have imagined. When he returned the journal, he would say only that it was a nice thing she did for Phil. **

**Joan nodded her head: "Yes, Martin, and you need to learn that you've a place in the world, even if you're no longer a surgeon in London. You should find someone who will feel about you as I did about Phil. Your nose has been stuck in books, clocks and anesthetized bodies far too long. It's time for you to get a proper wife. It's not too late."**

"**Rubbish, Aunty Joan. I've plenty to occupy my time. I don't want or need a wife. I'm responsible for the medical care of this village and the surrounding areas, and I take that quite seriously. I've no need of anyone in my life."**

"**So, you've made no progress with Louisa Glasson then?"**

**Turning the same colour as the beets Joan had just pulled from the garden, her nephew stammered: "That's utter and complete nonsense. Miss Glasson is my patient and I must very occasionally discuss the status of the school's health matters. That is the extent of our relationship."**

"**Me thinks thou dost protest too much," Joan responded.**

"**What are you saying?" **

"**Shakespeare, Martin, Shakespeare. Don't tell me my charming brother Christopher spent all that money for your education and you've never heard a quote from the bard!"**

"**Of course, I have. It's just not applicable. I am protesting nothing. I've no interest or concern about Louisa – uhm – Miss Glasson. She teaches, I'm a GP. Nothing more."**

"**Right," snorted Aunt Joan. "Well, she's better than that miserable Edith person you brought round years ago."**

"**Really, Aunty Joan. I've no intention of proceeding with this conversation. I'd rather talk of your filthy chickens and sheep or gossip from the Women's Institute." **

**Three years later, Martin wished he had been more forthcoming with Joan that day. Wished that he had no interest in Louisa Glasson. His life would have been much easier, particularly since his ridiculous attempt to marry her. No matter what Aunt Joan or Chris Parsons told him, he had made a fool of himself and should have known better. No woman could possibly want anything to do with him. **

**Medicine was all that was needed. He had a busy life before Louisa Glasson, and he made certain he stayed busy since her departure from his life. Just as he did when Edith left him in London and went off to Montreal. Fortunately, the villagers kept him very busy with their epidemics and illnesses. Their obstinate refusal to follow his most elementary recommendations ensured he would always be busy. Too busy by half. **

**He hadn't even the time to order Christmas gifts for Aunty Joan or his Aunt Ruth in London. Returning to the booklist, perhaps he could find something suitable for each. An organic farming book for Joan should be easy enough as it was quite the popular topic. Aunt Ruth would be a little more tricky as few authors wrote popular books about the criminally insane. An American book, most likely, but not one that would ever be elevated to "The Times" booklist. **

**Each year he sent such a book to Ruth, and she responded with a terse note. Never did he receive a gift or hear more from her. But he was satisfied knowing he had met his obligation. Of course, he would send nothing to his parents. Last Christmas Christopher Ellingham phoned asking that he not bother with even a card. ****It would only upset Margaret who, his father bitterly noted, was happily ensconced with her lover and well rid of the Ellingham family. **

**He would, of course, order Henry Montgomery's book. Edith's father was right about him. Martin had lost his liberal leanings as he grew older, but more from working in NHS hospitals than his age. Perhaps after reading the book, he would send a letter to Mr. Montgomery out of respect for his service to England. But looking again at his photo, Martin doubted he would comprehend it. Clearly, the man was suffering some grave illness, but nothing was mentioned in the review. **

**He could always direct the note to Rose Montgomery. She might remember him still. He had been quite fond of her and recalled the family's kindness to him during his time with Edith. If only she had stayed in London and married him, he would not be in this mess. He likely would never have fallen victim to the haemophobia. But if he had, Edith would have taken him in hand and made certain he received proper care. She would not have endured his stubborn refusal to seek treatment or work in another aspect of medicine. **

"**You've got to crack on, Ellingham. Look smart and get on with it," he could almost hear her say. She said this very thing the few times he complained about med school, and he would repeat the same words of encouragement to her. Robert Southwood always said they were quite the team and never completely forgave Martin for letting Edith escape to Canada. He had never forgiven himself.**

**Well Edith had not married him, his haemophobia remained untreated, and he and Louisa had failed to marry. Altogether, a poor showing from a man who once held such great promise. **

**Tightening his jaw, Martin picked up "The Times," once more. After glancing through the list of books, he realized the one person who could help him. Certainly not treat him directly, but she knew him well when he was younger. Always a brilliant woman, she would understand what was needed. He hadn't seen or talked to her for years, but he could find her telephone number in London through the physicians registry. **

**Like Louisa Glasson, Martin Ellingham thought of someone to help him three days before Christmas. It would all be painful, disruptive and unpleasant, but neither could think of another solution. Each finally needed someone.**

**Continued . . . **


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**History  
**

**India Cloverley once thought she led a charmed life. Born the first daughter following four sons, India was adored by her parents and older brothers. Both pretty and quick-witted, she did well at school and went on to read philosophy and religion at St. Andrews. It was there that she met Chester Cloverley, the scion of an old London family which had made its wealth in wool. Two weeks after graduating St. Andrews, India and Chester were married.**

**Returning from an extended honeymoon, she joined other young woman of privilege in providing free labour to the most respectable charities. Each morning a dowager of impeccable social standing assigned India to the lowliest task in a charity with a minor royal as its patron. After two years, she escaped this servitude by presenting Chester with an heir, then a spare, followed by a third child. During the ten years it took India to accomplish this feat, she failed to recognize that Chester's drinking had become a concern. It was brought to her attention by the senior Mrs. Cloverley, who ordered India to stop his harmful behaviour. **

**Helpful and curious by nature, India threw herself into solving Chester's problem. She quickly learned what was needed: an alcoholic treatment program, a lifetime of Alcoholics Anonymous, and his family's love and support. Her mother-in-law was suitably impressed. Chester was not. He flew into an alcoholic rage and demanded a divorce. She turned to his parents for support, but they valued their only son more than India. Divorce was her reward.**

**The children became her responsibility, and generous funds were provided for their care and education. A sum was presented to India which would ensure her modest comfort until death. Not up to the standards of their Broundesbury townhouse, a commodious flat in Cheswick became home to India and her three despondent children. Should she remarry, the flat would revert to the Cloverleys.**

**With her changed financial and social circumstances, India thought to return to charity work. The groups for which she once toiled did not welcome her without the promise of largesse from the Cloverleys. India made her way to London's East End where an extra set of hands was appreciated by the many charities. For the last few years, she had earned a small stipend by managing a shelter for women and children in Stratford. It was there that she met Danny Steele. **

**As an architect associated with regeneration projects displacing the poor, Danny Steele was anathema to India. However, she needed his help in converting the shelter's old boiler rooms to play spaces and meeting areas. Over the course of a year, they progressed from tolerating each other to sleeping together. Mind you, India laughed so often over Danny's religious palavering that he had nearly stopped. It was only at certain very intimate times that Danny now called upon God by name. **

**Three days before Christmas, India was accompanying Danny to a party given by two young designers from his firm. Billed as a very ironic Christmas, he explained that irony was very popular among today's youth. In the narrow flat carved from a leather tanning warehouse, the scene was more reminiscent of Christmas at her in-laws than a youthful gathering.**

**The boys who would be men were dressed in sleek black suits, white shirts and thin ties. Several of them wore vintage smoking jackets, not unlike those favoured by India's own father. The girls pranced about in pouffy dresses of net and chiffon with their hair swept up. Cigarettes were held in many hands, and Martinis were the drink of choice. Two iPods blaring music of the 1950s and 1960s were the only modern touch.**

**Today had been busy at the shelter, and India found a lone chair tucked in a corner where she would endure the party. Danny promised her only one hour. The warm smoke-filled room was strangely soothing, and India became detached from her noisy surroundings. She was brought around by Danny kissing her forehead and asking that she charge his mobile. He would be throwing darts, but was expecting a call from his banker. "Of course," she smiled. Hopeless and penniless though he may be, India was quite fond of Danny, but not enough to risk her financial support or flat for love.**

**India connected her charger to Danny's mobile and dropped it on a small table. Returning to her reverie, she was soon disturbed by the ringing mobile. Scrambling about, she missed the call. No name appeared, but the number was not a London exchange. Likely not his banker. Minutes later the mobile rang again, but only twice. The same number appeared. Thinking it may Danny's elderly mother, she stood to search him out. **

**Three young women at the dart board reported that Danny had left to fetch more gin. "That's the only reason we invite the old codgers," laughed one girl. Smiling indulgently in return, India made her way to the drinks table, where she poured a glass of fizzy water. The mobile rang once more. India hurriedly answered it: "Hullo," and barely heard over the din "Sorry, I was looking for Danny Steele."**

**"Yes, this is his mobile," she shouted, "let me nip outside." In the chilly corridor, India continued: "Terribly sorry. I'm at a noisy party. Were you looking for Danny Steele." **

"**Yes," Louisa Glasson hesitantly responded. "I only wanted to chat with him about lodging in London." **

"**Well, I'm India, India Cloverley, a friend of his. He may have told you about the work he's done at our shelter."**

"**No, actually, I've not spoken to Danny for a bit. I know him from Port Wenn – Cornwall – he's from here."**

"**Yes, of course. His mother's there. I've spoken with her. Quite feisty, isn't she? If you're coming for Christmas, it may be a bit late for lodging. But you could stay with Danny or me. I've a large flat and my children are with their grandparents for the week."**

"**No, not for Christmas. I'm taking a teaching post in London for the spring term. I'll only need something small. Perhaps near the school or tube."**

"**What school is it then," India asked.**

"**It's called Augusta Ada Lovelace in Turnham Green. Perhaps you know it."**

**India pursed her lips as it was the school attended by the daughters of several former friends. It was begun by a group of parents who thought the prestigious schools were not providing the rigorous science and maths courses girls now needed to compete. This was all the feminist mothers of London needed, and the school had prospered immediately.**

**For the next 15 minutes or so, India Cloverley and Louisa Glasson talked with no mention of Danny Steele. Schools, housing and the high cost of city living were of more interest. About to ring off, India said: "Oh, Danny's returned. Shall you chat with him?"**

**Before she could respond, Louisa heard the woman say: "It's Louisa Glasson, my darling. She's taken a teaching post in London for spring term."**

"**Lou, Lou Glasson is that you," Danny asked in an overly-solicitous tone. "My mum told me what happened with you and the doctor. Not marrying and all. Her friend, Joan, was devastated. You must feel bad as well."**

**Louisa nearly bit through her lip and wanted to scream that she did feel bad about not marrying Martin and was devastated as well. Instead she cheerfully, if not truthfully, responded: "Yes, only a bit of a mistake. We're still friends. He's doing well. You remember Holly from uni? She's asked me to teach spring term at her school in London. You said that I could have my choice of jobs there, but this seemed a good place to start. I'm to speak with India after Boxing Day about flats. Please thank her again. Happy Christmas to you both." Before Danny could say more, she ended the call. How did that lovely woman put up with him? **

**The next morning she phoned Holly in Tuscany where she was on holiday in a tiny village called Lucca. Louisa had signed the school's contract and sent it off to London. Her old friend assured Louisa that she would love the school. The parents and girls were fantastic as were the resources. Not like Louisa's little village school. Bracing herself for six months of Holly, Louisa thanked her, saying she would be in London on January 8. Indeed, she was thrilled to fill in for the 6th and 7th year maths teacher. With yet another lie uttered, Louisa rang off with Christmas wishes and Holly responded: "Buon Natale." **

**Now Louisa had less than three weeks to resign from Port Wenn Primary, sell her car, let her cottage and find housing in London. Although daunting, she looked forward to life in an anonymous city where no one cared if she "felt bad" or was "devastated" by not marrying Martin. After the spring term, she would have eight weeks to plan a new life. If Augusta Ada Lovelace did not extend her contract, there were several well-regarded grammar schools seeking teachers for the fall term. The salary band was a bit higher, and Louisa would need the money. **

**Feeling better than she had in months, Louisa left her cottage. She had kept ****her vow to eat better and must buy a few bits and pieces for tonight's supper. Walking toward the shops, Martin Ellingham drove by, eyes forward, but she saw him flinch ****on glimpsing her. Other than a chance encounter of this sort, Martin and Louisa were not in touch since their wedding day. Louisa rehearsed many conversations she wished to have with him, but never had the courage to knock on his kitchen door or even phone him. He obviously felt the same as he made no effort to contact her. Leaving the village would be painful, but she saw no other way to rid her mind of him.**

**The night before their wedding, Martin said he stayed in Port Wenn only because of her. With her departure, perhaps he would leave soon. Louisa could then return to her village with only one reminder of him. That was her hope as she watched his car drive away from Port Wenn. **

**Continued . . . **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10  
**

**Connection  
**

**Three days before Christmas, a flight attendant gently shook Edith Montgomery's shoulder and whispered: "We've arrived in London, madam. It's time to leave the plane." A bit disoriented, Edith responded: "Yes, of course," and reached for her case and overcoat. Looking about she saw the last few passengers depart as the attendants moved slowly through the plane looking for items left behind. "Happy Christmas," a chirpy young woman wished Edith as she stepped onto the carrier. "Yes, of course," she repeated, a bit embarrassed having fallen asleep on the short flight from Newquay.**

**Who could find fault? The last few weeks had been very hectic with many patients at the clinic and the round of parties Lacey Woods insisted she attend. "You must be there, Edith. Show the flag, that sort of thing. We've had a fantastic few months, and it's because of you. You've a right to celebrate," she enthused. **

**Edith trotted out several fancy dresses with well-designed bodices that provided the decolletage nature failed to produce. She and Lacey giggled like schoolgirls over the reaction the dresses sparked. No one could imagine Dr. Montgomery without a proper suit and white medical coat. The transformation wrought by the dresses became the subject of even more gossip and an equal measure of envy. **

**At the Royal Cornwall party, she had a lengthy conversation with Michelle Parsons, who tried not to be surprised when Edith told her of Nicholas. Of course, the elephant in the room was Martin Ellingham, a topic they carefully avoided. Not a bother for Edith. **

**She was a bit miffed with Robert Southwood and, quite frankly, felt no further obligation to haul Ellingham back to London. With nearly a two week break from the clinic, she thought to spend a day or two with Robert. Ringing him to make arrangements, he was a bit short and pointedly reminded her that he would be with this family over the hols. **

**Alright then. No Southwood, no Ellingham. Truth be told, Edith was relieved. Recalling her humiliating phone call to him following that first year in Montreal, Martin Ellingham was not a chapter of her life she wished to re-visit. She was intrigued by the thought of seeing him again and sorting out this blood phobia business. His strange withdrawal from London medicine. Why he exiled himself to a place even worse than Truro. But she could manage never knowing. **

**Edith returned to the present as she pushed her way through the airport masses searching out the poor devil David sent to fetch her. He promised to have someone at the luggage carousel and she made her way there. As she intently watched the bags circle about, she recognized a small voice shouting: "Mum, Mummy, we're over here." Looking about, Edith saw Nicholas running toward her followed by – oh God, no – Patrick! She flinched as she saw her tall, wiry ex-husband amble toward her, his blue eyes glistening behind glasses and that unruly bit of brown hair falling over his forehead. Not what you would ever call handsome, but Patrick was striking and possessed an easy, approachable manner. **

**Before she could react more, Nicholas was in her arms, excitedly saying: "Dad's here, Mummy. My dad's here for Christmas. He came yesterday, and Uncle Simon brought him home. We rode a horse together today. No one had to hold the rein for us cos Dad knows what to do. Tomorrow we'll have the Christmas tree, and Grandmother has hanging stars with our names on them."**

"**Oh, Nicholas, this all sounds fantastic. Let me just collect my luggage and we'll hurry home. Where did your father leave the car?"**

**A smirk played across Patrick's face: "Surely, Edith, you don't believe the squire of Larchmont Hall would allow me to drive one of his precious motorcars. You are to be chauffeured home in style. David's PA is just over there waiting for us."**

**Before Edith could look in the direction where he pointed, her bag passed by and Patrick stepped forward, easily hefting the large case. Carrying her bag and holding Nick's hand, he strode toward the dreaded Teddy Latham with Edith rushing to keep a pace. **

"**Happy Christmas, Dr. Montgomery," Teddy wearily greeted her. **

**She displayed her brightest, most brittle smile to the simpering PA but said nothing. If it weren't for Nicholas, she would have turned around and taken the next plane back to Cornwall. But her first Christmas at Larchmont Hall in years would not be spoiled by these two twits! **

**Teddy led them to a large black car just outside the terminal, and Edith shook her head at his cheek in leaving it where he pleased. His arrogance was boundless, but she enjoyed the convenience it brought. On the drive to Larchmont, Nicholas cuddled against her in the rear seat, but it was Patrick and Teddy who held his attention. **

**The two were talking about football matches, which she found strange given Teddy's predilections. But their chatter entertained Nick, leaving Edith to sulk in silence as she rubbed her son's shoulders and occasionally bent to kiss his forehead. Patrick once chastised her for kissing their child saying it would make him a sissy. This comment spawned one of their biggest arguments, and she held Nick closer with the memory of it. **

**Edith's eyes widened as they entered the gates of Larchmont Hall. Spotlights played off the greenery and wreaths bedecking the house and electric candles glimmered at the many windows. What was Charmaine thinking? Or, more likely, Helen. This was not what they did at Larchmont Hall. Surely, Mum did not approve of this. And Arthur. The waste of electricity would be his first concern. Windmills supplied some of his farm's power, and Aspey had proclaimed their goal of living off the grid - whatever that might mean. Well, she would put a stop to it immediately. **

**Entering through the kitchen door, Nicholas hurried forward calling: "We're home, my mum's here with my dad. Now we can have Christmas."**

"**Dear Nicholas bring them into the lounge," responded Rose Montgomery. "Albert and Norwood are setting up the tree cut this afternoon from Arthur's forest primeval." **

**Charmaine and her brood were there along with Arthur and Aspey Wright-Haven. Teddy had gone on to fetch David from the train station following a business meeting in Milton Keynes City. Dad was surprisingly sitting with Mum on a small sofa and looked quite alert as he watched the tree being steadied. In anticipation of the interviews and news bits about his biography, Dad's doctor had ordered a drug holiday from his Parkinson's medication. For a few weeks he would do quite well, and then the drugs were needed again. By her reckoning, he could probably manage Christmas, and then immediately return to his drug regime.**

**Edith was more than pleased with the few television interviews she had seen with her father. True they were short pieces, but Dad was very cogent and engaged. Simon was with him to cover any awkwardness, and the old cold warrior had managed to present himself very well indeed.**

**Squeezing next to her mother, Edith kissed her and then reached for Dad's hand. He held it firmly and looked at her with recognition. If only this could continue she wished. "Well, dear girl," Mum whispered, "Patrick's here for Nicholas, and you are to be nice to him. It won't be easy, but you must try for your son. Peter arrives on Boxing Day and that will be more than enough for your father. Promise, Edith."**

"**Of course, Mum. But what were you thinking allowing Charmaine and Helen to tart up the house? It's quite distasteful."**

"**If you mean the decorations, that was my doing. The house has just been refurbished, and we had a number of events to show the changes. A few were charity dos, and Helen made a splendid job of it. Now try not to be too harsh on your sisters-in-law. They are lovely young women and make Christmas and Boxing Day quite easy for me. Remember how nicely Helen took care of Martin Ellingham when you went off to Morocco that Christmas."**

"**Martin Ellingham. Really, Mother, that's ancient history. I'd rather you forgot about him."**

"**That's easy enough. I've not heard from Martin for years now. I've no idea where to send his card and have had nothing from him. He's forgotten about us, I'd say. He was a lovely young man, Edith. If you'd given him half a chance, you'd be married and living in London now without all this back and forth to Cornwall."**

**Before she could stop herself, Edith announced: "Martin's actually living near Truro, Mum. In a little fishing village. He's a GP." **

"**GP, Edith! Now really. Martin was to be a surgeon. His cards were always posted from St. Mary's and then St. Thomas's. He's somewhere in London, we've just lost touch with each other. I thought to have Jane search him out on the internet. She worked a wonder this year finding addresses for me. With your father's book, we heard from many old friends, and our Janie found most of them. I've posted bundles of cards this year. Almost like the days when Dad was an MP. Of course, the girls did the cards then. I was so busy with the surgery and you children."**

"**Actually, Mum, Martin is in Cornwall. I saw his old friend from med school only the other night. Do you remember him talking of Chris Parsons? He and his wife have three children and live near Truro as well. Chris is the chief executive of the PCT and Michelle teaches music. They're doing quite well." **

**Yes, quite well. Edith thought wistfully of how the Parsons continued the happy life together she had envied in med school. Even then she wondered why she and Martin could not work out how to be like them. **

**Chris and Michelle Parsons were an enviable couple with a generally happy family. Tonight was an exception. Christmas was a busy time for Michelle with concerts for parents and her talents needed for musical events throughout Cornwall. She could not say no. There were few people who could manage a herald trumpet or play the variety of instruments needed in a small production. Each year Christmas was left to Chris, and tonight he was driving home with a hastily-bought tree tucked in the back of his Volvo wagon. **

**When he arrived, the sullen au pair rushed from the house to her waiting boyfriend, leaving the children to bang on about the tree promised hours ago. Chris lugged it into the house and had the tree and stand upright in minutes. He pushed several chairs aside in the lounge to complete his positioning of the tree at a corner window. Now he must search out the bloody baubles and tinsel to toss on it. **

**But his yawning children had lost interest in the long-delayed tree and asked if they may go to bed. "Off you go, then. We'll do it up in the morning. Mum won't be here, but we can make short work of it and surprise her tomorrow night. After the Christmas services, she'll be all ours." Only Gillian forgave Chris enough to kiss him goodnight. Danny and Julia cast woeful glances his way as they ascended the stairs to their beds.**

**With one less duty to complete that day, Chris fell into a large chair and closed his eyes. He would have a quick nap awaiting Michelle and then explain why the tree wasn't finished. Not that she would mind. Exposed to many wives at this week's parties, Chris once again realized what a brilliant match he had made with Michelle. Ellingham was right about that.**

**Oh, God, what was to be done about that man. He refused their invitation to Boxing Day, but nothing unusual there as he did this every year since arriving in Port Wenn. Mart had never been to their home and had only the occasional meal or coffee with Chris when he was forced to attend a PCT training session. Save for the one dinner in Truro with Louisa, Ellingham had declined their many offers to meet. Chris didn't want to get soft-hearted about it, but he cared for Martin like one of his brothers. Although it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so.**

**With visions of the wedding fiasco dancing through his head, Chris nodded off until pulled from sleep by his ringing mobile. It was a London exchange, but no name appeared. "Chris Parsons," he tried to answer clearly. "Parsons, this is Harriett Jaffe. Sorry to ring you so late, but I've just had a call from Martin Ellingham who sounded quite barmy. What in the world has happened to him?"**

**Continued . . . **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11  
**

**Assessment**

**Harriett Jaffe had spoken to Martin Ellingham from her father's study in Oxford. She had taken a leave from her London practise and family to see Stanley Jaffe through the cancer that inevitably took his life. The last few months and recent days had left her shattered. First was the burial one day after Dad's death, followed by six days of sitting shiva, and then yesterday's memorial service. Her husband had taken their three sons back to London this morning, and Harriett was left alone. Too exhausted to do anything more, she was reading condolence notes when she received a call from her service in London. During the last few months, she had treated only her most critical cases, but was not surprised to receive a call at this time of year. Psychiatric patients did not do well at Christmas.**

**The young woman apologised for phoning, but said that the gentlemen insisted he knew Dr. Jaffe. She need not ring him tonight, tomorrow would do. On hearing the caller was Martin Ellingham, Harriett sighed. Of course, he would never want to inconvenience anyone. **

**It was a bit after eight, but her curiosity won out; she must phone Martin tonight. Harriett had been among the many extending offers of help when his haemophobia occurred. Like Chris Parsons, she had not given up on Ellingham. But, unlike Chris, he never responded to her calls and notes. The stubborn Martin Ellingham ignored all of them, even her father and his other Oxford tutors. **

**Harriett had been with Ellingham and Parsons at St. Mary's and became a bit close to Martin their first year as junior house officers. Her boyfriend, Pradeep, had chosen an internship in the States after med school, and she was not certain where they stood when he left England. One night following too many hours on duty and her moaning over Pradeep, Ellingham told her about Edith Montgomery. She, too, had left him in England. But Martin knew where he stood with Edith - their relationship was over. **

**Through the rest of the year, Martin said little about Montgomery, but he became Harriett's reluctant confidant. As she tried to reconcile her relationship with a man living an ocean away, Ellingham simply let her talk. Harriett and Pradeep progressed to the point that she took a psychiatric residency in the States rather than continue training in London. They returned to England a few years later and were married. Harriet was delighted when the reclusive Martin Ellingham attended both their Jewish wedding and the Jain ceremony which followed. **

**Pleading time constraints, Ellingham never again appeared at a wedding or any gathering of St. Mary's colleagues. Pradeep, more than Harriett, would see him occasionally at professional conferences where Martin was pleasantly brusque. **

**Of course there was the gossip that swirled through London medical circles, but references to Ellingham were of a professional rather than personal nature. Harriett always regretted not urging him to address the issues arising from his bleak childhood. Martin's troubled psyche was quite apparent, but she respected their thin friendship too much to press him about it. She experienced a bit of guilt on learning of Martin's haemophobia, as the basis for his disorder was easily identified. **

**Bracing herself with a glass of wine, Harriett rang Ellingham. "Martin, how are you? Lovely to hear from you."**

**Before she could continue, he interrupted: "Harriett, I'm very sorry about your father. I just read of it. He was an extraordinary don. Obviously, he made an impression on many of his students, and I count myself among them."**

"**Thank you, Martin. Very kind of you. There was a small memorial gathering at Balliol yesterday, but something larger will be planned for the Hilary Term in the spring. Shall I let you know about it?"**

"**Um, no, I'm sure I'll hear of it. I'll try to be in Oxford, but I'm quite busy."**

"**Yes, I understand that you're a GP now in Cornwall. Chris Parsons rang me last week about Dad. We had a catch up about the St. Mary's group living outside London. Good that you two see each other. That must be nice for you."**

"**It's good. Right, good. Um, Chris may have mentioned my issue. The reason I left London and surgery."**

**Now Harriett interrupted him: "Yes, Martin. I am well aware of your ****haemophobia. That's why I rang you and sent those notes when it occurred. You understand that many of us, including my father, were very concerned about you and wanted to help. Have you done anything about it Martin?"**

**Silence greeted her somewhat harsh comments, but Harriett had suppressed her frustration with him for several years. Why would he not avail himself of the best minds in psychology and psychiatry to treat his illness? **

**What followed this silence was completely unexpected by Harriett. When Martin finally talked, it was in a torrent of words muddled together and nonsensical to her. He hated the Cornwall village; his patients were imbeciles; the chemist was daft; something about vomiting – a good deal of vomiting; then jibberish about a vicar and a pig; Chris Parsons was fed up with him, and on and on. He finally ended: "Harriett, you aren't the right person, but I need someone to treat my phobia. I must return to surgery. Work in London again." **

**What his old colleagues had waited years to hear was finally uttered by Martin Ellingham. He was ready to end his exile and re-enter their world. Of course, Harriett would try to help him. But it would be better if they met. She could sort out the extent of his problem and whether a psychiatrist or psychologist should minister to him. Could he come to Oxford in the next few days? Ellingham had a few patients in the morning, but he could be there by three or so, It would take but a few moments of her time. Only a brief assessment and referral was needed. Nothing more. **

"**Martin, please don't pretend this isn't serious," she chided. "Come prepared to tell me everything, so that I may help you. Thank you for calling on me Martin. Now rest before the trip."**

**Harriett then scrolled through her phone for Chris Parsons' number. By the desperate tone of his voice, Ellingham was experiencing some issue beyond his blood phobia. She knew it would be difficult to extract much of a personal nature from Ellingham, but some occurrence caused this additional anxiety. Perhaps Parsons could provide insights. **

**Much as he wanted to help, Chris knew Mart would have his head if he told Harriett anything of a personal nature. Ellingham was not his patient, so there was no issue of confidentiality. He only felt uneasy – more disloyal – in discussing with Harriett the little he knew of his friend's life.**

"**Chris, I know about his haemophobia, but there seems to be more than that. Has he had a recent accident, death in his family, some mishap with a patient?"**

"**Look, Harriett, Martin will likely not mention this – and you didn't hear it from me – but he was to be married in November. At the last minute, he and the bride decided not to go through with it. For the life of me, I can't work out what happened. Mart won't say a word, other than it was mutual, but clearly it had an effect. You know the sort of life he's led. To go from that level of detachment to a full relationship may have traumatized him enough that he had to stop it."**

**Trying not to leap ahead in her analysis, Harriett began to consider the colleagues who were best for treating Ellingham's phobia and his probable depression. It was a short but effective list. Now if she could only persuade him to consult one of them. Parsons warned it would be nearly impossible.**

**Harriett's psychiatric specialty was post traumatic stress disorder. Arising from the many horrors delivered by the world, she first treated patients who had served in Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Kosovo. Now it was survivors of terrorist attacks on English soil; Middle Eastern women who had escaped honour killings and –more recently - the British and Australian soldiers deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. It was a grim but terribly necessary field of work.**

** When Martin Ellingham appeared in Oxford the next day, his physical demeanor was not unlike that of a PTSD patient. ****He was thin, pasty and held his face immobile, even as Harriett showed him photos of her children with their grandfather days before he died. Martin's fingers twitched and he had difficulty maintaining eye contact as he paced about the study. Pain was radiating from Martin, and she sensed a man in serious trouble. And so she returned his favour from their time as junior house officers: Harriett simply let him talk.**

**Continued . . . **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12  
**

**Triumph**

**Leaving Port Wenn for Oxford, Martin Ellingham caught sight of Louisa Glasson as she strode by his car. Her reaction matched his. She averted her eyes and gave no indication that she had seen him. Containing the urge to accelerate his car, Martin instead drove slowly through the village to his meeting with Harriett Jaffe. **

**His last visit to the Jaffe house on Squitchey Lane had been in triumph. Receiving his BA in Medical Sciences days before, he would soon begin clinical studies at St. Mary's. Three other top students and Martin had been invited to their tutor's home to honour their achievements. **

**Reza Houmani planned to be a neurologist, whilst John Collier would train in oncology. The fourth guest, Edith Montgomery, would specialise in obstetrics and gynaecology, a field of endeavour the men thought quite appropriate for a female but not truly in the select range of medical specialties. "Nothing but a baby catcher," they sneered. No reason to include her in their august company.**

**Marjorie Jaffe was a gracious hostess whose dinners sparkled with intellectual conversation and witty repartee. To break the ice with her nervous, young guests, she asked each to recall an amusing story from childhood. Collier went on a bit much about the pranks he and his brother perpetrated against the family dog. The others laughed, but Martin saw nothing humorous in stories about the filthy, disgusting beast. **

**For his part, Houmani made light of his family's perilous escape from Iran by describing his mother's indecision over what treasures she would bring. Limited to only one piece of luggage, she could not decide between family photographs and her collection of Italian shoes. Ultimately she took her shoes and appropriated half of Reza's luggage space for the photographs. **

**Montgomery recounted the summer her parents returned from a brief holiday to find that she and her five siblings had each sustained an apparent injury. With the collusion of the local GP, the six children were appropriately bandaged for injuries ranging from a broken wrist to crushed toes. The successful hoax became the stuff of family legend, and even Martin thought the story funny. **

**Now it was down to Ellingham who stammered that his parents were quite serious people. Thus he had no amusing stories from his childhood. He apologised and tried his best to bring the conversation back to medicine. Had anyone read a report in the BMJ about dilated cardiomyopathy, myocarditis and the bioptome?**

**Her green eyes flashing, Montgomery had coolly responded: "Yes. But then have you read the article about the measurement of cardiac output by electrical impedance plethysmography in pregnancy?" **

"**Now, now you two," reproved their hostess at this classic display of Oxford one-upsmanship. "Let's enjoy tonight and leave medicine for tomorrow."**

**At the end of the evening, Stanley Jaffe offered a short toast to each of the four. Calling them the "best of the best," he exhorted the new graduates to continue their scholarly pursuits as they left Oxford. Addressing Martin, he said: "In my Organisation of the Body tutorials, I quickly learn who has the intellectual capacity and physical stamina to excel in the rigourous field of surgery. You, sir, are second to none. We expect great things from you. You will extend lives and make them worth living by the skills you have learned here. Oxford is very proud of you, Mr. Ellingham."**

**That night had been among the most satisfying of his life. Never again would he be the subject of derision and scorn. If he only continued on the course set at Oxford, his life would be filled with success. He would earn the respect of both his peers and superiors until the day he became the superior.**

**Now as he drove to Oxford, it was he who thought derisively of the long-faded notion that he would be successful and have the respect of others. Certainly, few people in Port Wenn respected him as a GP. Eager to be relieved of their mostly self-inflicted miseries, they only lapped up the good care he provided. **

**After their inauspicious start, Louisa Glasson did respect him as a doctor and eventually as a man. Whether she retained any respect for him, he had no idea. They had not talked since handing him her letter saying she could not marry him. Her reasons were not clear or notable. Nor were his reasons for not marrying her. But there were a few.**

**Witnessing a birth in training was much different from the awe he felt in delivering her friend's baby. What a jolt it had been when Louisa said she would decline Isobel's request that he be the godfather. She would make apologies to her friend. Standing on the hillside, Martin understood the sort of life he would foist on Louisa. She would be the one always apologising for him. For his rudeness, impatience, short temper and incurable discomfort around people. "No, we won't join you at the pub tonight. Martin doesn't drink and dislikes crowds." "Of course, Martin enjoyed the meal. He only said it was overly-salted because of his concern over the ill effects of sodium. Hazard of being married to a doctor," she would laugh. **

**How many times would she make apologies for his behaviour until she finally made this apology to him: "I'm sorry, Martin, but I can no longer be married to you." **

**He had been rash in asking her to marry him. Thinking only that he could not lose her, he desperately sought a way to keep her. Marriage would do. She could have easily said no, but she said yes. And he was elated. Their silly rows would be over, the misunderstandings could be managed, Port Wenn would somehow be bearable with Louisa as his wife.**

**He convinced himself that his phobia had brought him to the village and to Louisa. How else could he have found a woman who accepted him, who wanted him no matter his shortcomings. It must be that she loved him. He certainly loved her or thought he did. Love – the principal element in any marriage – was there. Everything would fall into place now. Fate once again showed its bright side when Louisa agreed to marry him.**

**No sooner had she thrown herself into his arms than they made their way upstairs to her bed. Hesitating a bit, Louisa had reassured him: "Sex is like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, you never forget how to do it." And she was right. They came together quickly, triumphantly with no thought other than giving into their long-repressed need for each other. **

**With a drowsy Louisa pressed against his body, he thought of what they allowed themselves to forget: contraception. It seemed at the concert that she would soon have her period and had already ovulated. By now the unfertilised ovum had degenerated and was about to be expelled. They were safe, he clinically reasoned. Both were older, less fertile, less likely to conceive. Later that night, they made love again but Martin was a bit more careful. From then on, they had used condoms pinched from the supply at his surgery. **

**Louisa hinted that they would need condoms for only a short time. When they were married, she would like to try for a baby. She was nearly 37 and wanted a few children before reaching 40. Martin was a little taken aback with her stated intent to have children. As with her assumption that he did not want to be a godfather, Louisa did not ask his opinion about being a father. This may have been good, as he had never thought of children. Never thought even one a possibility. **

**In his London career, he had not treated children since his time as a house officer. He would see them walking about Kensington - bedeviling parents and nannies, making far too much noise, almost as pesky as the dogs obstructing the walkways. **

**A considerable change had occurred with his daily exposure to children in Port Wenn. Some days his surgery was overrun with them and their trifling afflictions. Not to mention his constant summons to the school for all manner of injuries. Children were always about in the village: playing their silly games, shouting taunts, generally being annoying. **

**With all of this, he really didn't know how he felt about children. Especially, his own children. Chris Parsons once confided: "Mart, I thought I loved Michelle, but when each child was born, my love was overwhelming. Even on the days they drive me mad, I love them. It's natural, instinctive. I can't explain it any other way." **

**Louisa became upset when he said Port Wenn might not be the proper place for children. She, herself, said the primary school was lacking, and the secondary school in Wadebridge no better. If she wanted children, they would be sent off to boarding school as he had been. Girls, especially. He would not allow a daughter of his to become the object of lascivious looks from the surfers or teenage pillocks who littered the Platt. If the C of E still had convent schools, his daughter would certainly attend one. **

**He shook his head in an attempt to physically rid himself of the memories from those few extraordinary weeks when he was once more triumphant. Surgery and London may be closed to him, but he would have something far more precious: A wife and the promise of children.**

**Now he had nothing.**

**To his astonishment, embarrassment actually, he told Harriett Jaffe everything just as she had asked. At first he resisted but she wouldn't allow it: "As I said, the haemophobia presents in a classic way. I have mild panic attacks at the sight of blood. They intensify if I smell it. I've had little experience with cauterizing flesh recently, but in London the odor of it was causal as well."**

"**You've said your life in Port Wenn is dramatically different from London, but your symptoms remain the same. The problem is not specific to a location, then, but to you. What triggers these reactions, Martin?"**

**For yet another inquisitor, he repeated the events precipitating his first panic attack in London. He was astute enough to understand the parallel between the emotions he experienced on seeing the patient with her family and his lack of any emotional involvement.**

"**Does it seem, Martin, that the haemophobia has become your defence against emotions? Perhaps, when your emotions are triggered you literally panic and create a reason to suppress them. As a surgeon, your objectivity was paramount. The day you reacted emotionally to the patient, the haemophobia occurred so that surgery was impossible. In that brief instant, your mind learned that a negative reaction to blood meant you were no longer in control. Without that control, you could no longer perform surgery. Do you want to return to surgery? Or was your phobia a means to escape from it? "**

"**No, of course not. Being a surgeon was what I needed. Your own father said Oxford expected great things of me. I fulfilled that promise and then some. I was the brilliant surgeon my father thought I'd never become. I proved to those insufferable bastards from school that I was their superior. I bested them. All of them."**

**Martin's vehemence was very telling to the psychiatrist. He pushed himself to become a surgeon not for himself but to prove his worth to others. The boys who harassed him at school, the horrid father who belittled his only son, and even her own father who burnished Oxford's reputation with the success of his exceptional student. **

**What did Martin actually want to do with his life, she asked.**

"**Become a doctor, of course. I've always been intrigued by mechanical items, and the human body is the ultimate machine. Its organisation, how the parts interact with each other, what outside influences do to it, how to fix the problems, really understand how it all works as a system. Looking at it as a whole, and understanding it completely. That's why I wanted medicine."**

"**But Martin, being a surgeon is just one aspect of what you want. The pulling apart and putting back together. What it seems you like more is understanding how the parts all work together, what affects each element, what can then set them right. You look at the interconnectivity of the body. Do you find that appealing?"**

"**Um, y****es, I suppose so. In the village, I was presented with illnesses I'd never seen, even in my rotas at St. Mary's. I knew of or could research them based on the patient's symptoms. Diagnosing illnesses was quite challenging ." To his surprise, Martin continued: "I enjoy it actually. Practising in Port Wenn. No two days are the same. I start each morning with an appointment schedule, but by evening I've likely treated more patients and dealt with an assortment of maladies. It's quite interesting. Like nothing I ever experienced in London."**

"**Why then do you want to return to London, Martin?"**

"**To do surgery. I want to return to surgery. It's the only thing I've ever done well."**

"**You've only just said that you do well as a GP, that you enjoy the work. What is it then – the money, the prestige, the control over your operating theatre? If you enjoy what you now do, why go back to surgery?"**

"**Because I must get away from Port Wenn. I may like the work, but the village is a stultifying place occupied by inbred morons who couldn't care less about me. My role is to fix them with no thanks or promise that I won't be treating them for the same problem again. They are fools. The lot of them."**

"**Is there no one in the village you like, Martin?"**

"**Well, my aunt has a farm near the village. She keeps chickens and a herd of sheep. Her veg patch is organically-certified, so she makes a bit of money from it. There's the occasional meal at her farm, or I prepare a fish for us at the surgery. A villager I diagnosed with cancer early on sometimes calls in, and we chat about music. Have the odd cup of coffee."**

"**What do you do with your leisure time, Martin? Do you have friends in the PCT? Colleagues from hospital? Are you seeing anyone?" This last question was fairly provocative, and Harriet hoped it would in no way betray Chris Parsons. But the failure to marry had to affect him, and she must know more.**

**Martin glowered at her and walked to the window before answering. With his back to her, he responded: "You've no idea how difficult it is being a GP. I've no leisure time and count myself lucky if I can manage a hair cut without interruption. I'm constantly on call, very demanding really. But it's my duty. Then no. I've no friends from the PCT or the hospital in Truro."**

"**So no women either, Martin?"**

"**No, of course not."**

"**What do you mean, 'of course not?' You had a relationship with that woman in med school - Edith was it? The gynaecologist. Don't tell me she put you off women for life."**

"**No, of course not," he repeated. "It's just that I'm terribly busy. No time for that any more."**

"**Any more," was the phrase Harriett seized on with her next question: "Then there have been women since the gynaecologist? When was your most recent relationship, Martin?"**

"**That has nothing to do with the haemophobia" he stiffly retorted. **

"**Perhaps. But it may have something to do with your depressed state. Just as the body is interconnected, so is the mind. You have developed a phobia that makes you react negatively to emotional situations. Is that why you aren't in a relationship? Do you wish to avoid the emotions?"**

"**No," he nearly shouted, "it's because I'm incapable of making a woman happy."**

**What an interesting comment. She must tread lightly. "Well, that's quite a sweeping statement, Martin. Unless you've changed since training together. I can't imagine a woman not appreciating you. You got along well with everyone and were very generous with your help. You seem morose now, but at heart, you are the same man who got me through that year at St. Mary's. I wore out my other friends over-analysing the situation with Pradeep, but you put up with me." **

"**That was a long time ago, Harriett. My God, look at what's happened to me. I'm bloody miserable myself. How am I supposed to make a woman happy? Someone like Louisa . . . " Martin abruptly stopped, having said more than intended.**

**Louisa is it, thought Harriett. Parsons did not provide the fiancee's name, but what other woman would he mention so quickly? **

**A long silence followed as Martin paced between the window and the chair he had vacated. Sipping water, Harriett waited for him to say more. She did not wish to stop him from talking.**

**On returning from the window once again, Martin said: "Excuse me. I'll just step into the hall for the toilet."**

"**Yes, it's just there," she answered neutrally. How many men had she sent off to the loo to collect themselves and plan how to outwit her? The incident that could not be mentioned would escape their lips, and time was needed to stuff the genie back into its bottle. It was what they wanted to hide. It was what she must pull from them. Ellingham was no exception.**

**Continued . . . . **


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13  
**

**Sustenance**

**A restrained Martin Ellingham returned from the loo in a surprisingly short time. Glancing at his watch, he pointedly noted: "I had no idea of the time. It's nearly half four and I must be off. Very good of you to see me Harriett. Have you a referral for me?"**

**This was certainly not what she expected, but Harriett reacted quickly: "Not quite Martin. I think we've more to talk through. Tell you what. I haven't had a bite since breakfast and you've a long trip tonight. Let me make tea and you can be on your way afterward." **

**Harriett learned from both Marjorie Jaffe and her Indian mother-in-in law that food makes people comfortable and loosens their tongues. It was the reason her desk drawers were stuffed with Hobnobs, shortbread and the chewy ANZACs favoured by the Aussies. No one could resist tea and biscuits.**

**Apparently, Martin Ellingham could. "Thank you, but that's not necessary. Beginning tomorrow, I'll be covering my village and two others through Boxing Day. I should leave now."**

"**You'll be working on Christmas?"**

"**Yes. I've always done it. Give the others time away."**

"**They'll cover for your holiday, will they?"**

"**Um, no, it's not necessary. It seems best that I do it."**

"**Is it because you have no family?" a risky question that could elicit any manner of response, but she wanted another go at sorting out this failed wedding business.**

"**Yes," he said slowly, "that's right."**

"**How do you feel about that Martin?"**

**A range of emotions washed over his face, as he struggled to answer. Clenching his hands into fists, he mumbled: "Fine. I'm fine with it." **

"**Well, then, we'll have tea and send you on your way. Come into the kitchen. It'll only take a minute. Dad has one of those Italian kettles that boils water in seconds. I hope he's left it to me in the will," she tried to joke.**

**Switching on lights as she moved down a short hall, Harriett led Martin to a cozy kitchen dominated by a round wooden table tucked below four windows. Plants crowded the ledge beneath the windows, and the garden was barely visible on this darkening December day. **

**Gloomy, she thought. Not only the day, but her old colleague as well. Would this have been her fate had Ellingham not endured her chattering? Would she have given up on Pradeep, remained in England for training and now be alone and sad like him? **

**Harriett fought her need to fill the kitchen with conversation by busying herself with the tea things. This would give Martin time to prepare for the questioning he knew was imminent. To his credit he only scrolled through his mobile, thinking she could not imagine what. She hoped he would be forthcoming. It was the only way she could help him.**

**After a cup of tea and a few desultory comments about the fat content of the cheese and the ripeness of the pears, Harriett extended a plate of vanilla crèmes to him: "Biscuit?" **

"**No, they aren't good for you."**

"**Of course not. But I couldn't manage three boys without the occasional packet of McVities. Mother's little helper I call them."**

"**My mum never allowed biscuits. Said that's what made me pudgy."**

**Alright then! Martin opened the door and Harriett was prepared to pounce. "I assure you that not allowing biscuits was the least harmful thing your mother did to you. When we talked about her at St. Mary's, I understood she was distant, withdrawn and would not touch you or display any physical warmth. As a baby, you probably made desperate attempts to establish a connection with her, but she rejected you. Obviously, this made you frustrated, emotionally unfulfilled and insecure. I think you adapted by developing an approach-avoidance conflict. That's probably the basis for both the haemophobia and your other issues."**

"**Harriett, look you're right about my mother. She was cold and unfeeling, but I've gotten over that. My problem is anxiety-related. At most it's a complex phobia. It has nothing to do with whether my mother held me or didn't hold me as a baby. My nanny provided excellent care, and I'm fine."**

"**It's not the same, Martin, and you know it. Your mother's rejection caused you to develop psychological defence mechanisms. In effect, you created a counter-dismissal. You learned early on that autonomy and independence were favoured and that dependency was annoying and antagonistic to your mum. You sought nothing from her so that she wouldn't outright reject you. You made do with what little emotional sustenance she provided. Perhaps only catching glimpses of her sustained that maternal intimacy for you."**

"**Harriett, I appreciate what you're saying. But my mother's not the problem. It's the phobia – it's why I came here for help. I don't need a mother. If anything my Aunt Joan tries to mother me, and it's a bit overwhelming at times."**

**Bringing up Martin's mother had been necessary as their aberrant relationship would be the first thing a therapist probed. But Harriet would let it rest for now. Smiling disarmingly, she began again: **

"**How true. After Mum died, my aunts did the same. I was pregnant with Sam, so they did prove helpful. It's good that your Aunt Joan's nearby. How does she get on? Still living on her own is she?"**

"**Yes, of course. She manages her farm and is very active. It would help if she shifted weight, but she's like the other villagers. Nothing I say resonates with them. They do as they please."**

"**That must be frustrating. It certainly bothers me when my patients won't follow through with sessions or refuse their meds. Those who've had trauma in day-to-day life are much more amenable to therapy. They want to feel better. **

"**It's the military lads who break my heart. They are trained to be tough, unfeeling - even with their mates. When an IED detonates and they are left behind, they have that horrid survivor's guilt and feel they must be punished for eluding death. They literally soldier on until things come to a head and someone forces them into treatment. Usually, it's a wife or girlfriend. Had enough of their nightmares, losing jobs, distant, dismissive behaviour. You know what it's like, Martin."**

**Quickly swallowing a last bit of biscuit, he responded: "What do you mean?"**

"**What woman's forced you into treatment?"**

"**No one's forced me to do a thing," he exclaimed. "It's only that I miss surgery more and more. I knew treatment was needed at the outset, but thought I no longer needed to be a surgeon. Now, I need to be a surgeon to get away from the village."**

**Harriett began to fill Martin' tea cup, but he held up a hand. "No time left for tea. I must get back to Port Wenn now."**

"**I thought you wanted to get away from the village. Now you can't wait to get back. Which is it Martin?"  
**

"**I've still a duty there. If you'll only give me a referral, I'll work out a way to do surgery again. You clearly understand my problem with the haemophobia. You've an idea who's best to treat it. A name or two and I can be off. The traffic will be ghastly as it is, and I must leave now."**

**Feeling much like her military lads under siege, Harriett lobbed one last explosive at Ellingham: "Not until you tell me about Louisa." **

**His stoic mien reappeared as he picked up his cup and carried it to the sink. Again with his back toward Harriett, he asked: "Do you mean Louisa Glasson?"**

"**Yes, if that's the Louisa you mentioned earlier."**

"**Again, she has nothing to do with my blood issue."**

"**Look, Martin, you know everything I've brought up today has to do with your blood issue. Don't be obtuse. You can't tell me you haven't looked into this extensively. You wouldn't have come here if you weren't ready to follow through on what you've read. You don't have to talk about her, but it would help."**

**Now leaning against the sink, arms folded tightly across his chest, Martin said: "Not much to tell really. We were engaged and planned to marry a month or so ago. At the last minute, we decided not to wed. It was completely mutual. We're both fine with it."**

"**Oh****, Martin. I'm terribly sorry. Are you sorting things out? Still planning to marry?"**

**He responded forcefully: "No."**

"**C****ome on Ellingham, don't be so stubborn. Likely the both of you had pre-wedding jitters and only need time to re-think the matter. You still love her, right?"**

"**What does that matter? She made it abundantly clear that she doesn't love me. Otherwise, she would've married me."**

**Harriett could only imagine what it was like to be in a relationship with Martin. He was a kind and good man. Intelligent, witty even, though there had been no hint of humour today. ****But his emotional limitations would frustrate most women. How difficult would it be to get through to him, to have a natural progression toward emotional intimacy. Enormous patience would be needed to move beyond the superficial and impersonal. **

**Some watershed must have occurred for them to consider marriage. Perhaps Martin had become less aloof, less independent and self-reliant. Maybe he had let this woman into his life. But what happened that he now shut her out so completely? Poor dear, he may not truly know. When emotions were trotted out, he likely hid in the nearest corner waiting for the uncomfortable to be dispatched.**

"**Other than the fact that you didn't marry, tell me more about Louisa. Where does she live, what's her work, her age, you know the juicy bits," she enthused. **

**Not responding to her attempt at lightness, Martin factually reported: She lives in Port Wenn. In a cottage with low ceilings but otherwise fine. She's a teacher - head of school - the primary school. She's 36 and has long hair. Had long hair."**

"**A****ll men love long hair on a woman, don't they? What else do you like about Louisa?"**

"**Um, she's smart, interesting, nice – would do anything for a villager. She's a good teacher and manages the school well. We sometimes didn't see eye to eye on matters and would have these rows. But we always seemed to come around to some – I would say – consensus."**

**Oh, good Lord, was Ellingham in love or in consensus? Never mind, she'd try again: "She seems a good match for you. Does she have family in the village as well?"**

**How to explain Louisa's parents to Harriett? He'd try: "Not as such. She was raised in Port Wenn, but I believe her mother left when Louisa was 11 or 12. It may be that she's living in Spain. And her father – hmm – well it seems he's imprisoned. Not a sociopath, of course. More of a grifter, I would say."**

**Nonplussed, Harriett said only: "I see." Louisa's childhood likely created her own emotional problems. She needed to know more: "With her mum gone and dad in prison was Louisa in care as a child?"**

"**Oh, no, nothing of the sort. She lived with her dad until university. After that, he left Port Wenn and was caught up in criminal schemes. She has little contact with either of them. Of course, I have no involvement with my parents, so there was no in-law issue to contend with."**

"**Having been through quite an in-law issue, consider yourself lucky. Pradeep's parents were disappointed when we became engaged, and my parents only hid it better. We were not the spouses they envisioned. But with the first grandchild, all was forgiven." **

**Perhaps keeping the conversation focused on Harriett, he could beg off in a minute or so and be on his way. "How old are your children?"**

**Not pleased by his deflecting the conversation away from Louisa, Harriett responded: "Marc is nearly 11, Ben is 9, and Sam is 5. Of course, they're fantastic. Brilliant like their father."**

"**Where are they at school?"**

" **Marc and Ben are in a primary school near my office, and Sam will finish reception in June. It's lovely having them close by."**

"**Seems odd that Pradeep wouldn't want them at a proper boarding school. He and your brother were at Westminster together, weren't they?"**

"**Yes, but knowing what that school did to them, we'd never send our boys away. Boarding schools are Britain's last penal colonies from what I know of them."**

"**That's nonsense, Harriett. I was at boarding school from nearly age 7. If you want children to be well-educated, there's no other choice."**

"**I'll not argue the point, Martin, but for children to develop as fully-functioning empathetic beings, they need to be with the family who loves them. Seven year old children don't have the emotional maturity to deal with what they perceive as the loss of their family. Being cut off makes them mistrustful and insecure. You being sent off so young has contributed to your problems."**

**What next, Martin thought. He never knew he was such a mess until Harriett pointed out the problems caused by not only his minor blood issue, but also his mother, his boarding school, and it seemed even his failure to marry Louisa. There must be another way to return to surgery and London!**

"**Harriett, we must leave it at that. It's on six and I've a long drive ahead. Thank you, again."**

**Sensing the finality of Martin's determination to leave, Harriett offered one last hope to him: "Let me give you some people to contact. Of course, you can ring me at any time. I assure you Martin, I want to help you. We all want to help you. It would be lovely having you back in London." **

**She couldn't resist her next comment: "You must visit us when you return. Pradeep has taught the boys boarding school manners, so they'll be perfect gentlemen – if not as well educated as you two."**

**Nodding his head, Martin looked as if he wanted to say something, but simply stood silently. **

**Retrieving her mobile from a pocket, Harriett went to her contact setting and wrote down two names, four telephone numbers and two email addresses. **

"**The first is George Baynes, a psychologist. He specializes in phobias and will likely recommend cognitive behaviour therapy. But you understand, Martin, that CBT does not address problems from your past, only how to cope with the present issues related to your haemophobia.. He'll help you with relaxation techniques, hypnosis and other self-directed methods. He's at Peninsula Medical Centre in Plymouth and trained with me at Penn. He's an American, but his wife's a Brit. I think you would be quite comfortable with Baynes, and Plymouth is relatively close to your village isn't it?**

"**If, and only if, you are ready to begin the serious work I think is needed, please consult Sabina Wolff. She's a Jungian psychiatrist and is extraordinary. Sabina's here in Oxford, so I know the travel would be difficult. You might have a few sessions in person and proceed from there."**

"**Thank you, Harriett. It may not appear so, but I'm very grateful that I came here today. It's sad to be here without Professor Jaffe, but - well – you know how much he meant to me. I'll be off now."**

"**Right. Let me find your coat." Nothing more was said in the short walk to the front door, but Harriett found herself forcing back tears. She felt as if she had torn Martin apart and was now sending him off un-mended and not much better for their visit. But then she often felt this way about her serious cases.**

**Stretching herself to reach his cheek, she kissed him and patted his arm: "Martin, remember: any time, whatever you need."**

**He nodded, but finally met her eyes and nearly smiled before walking down the narrow stone path to his car. **

**Martin's car had only left Squitchey Lane when Harriett pressed Pradeep's number on her mobile. He answered on the third ring and sounded irritated, likely by their clamoring children. He called their noise bothersome; she called it heartwarming. **

"**How are you, babe," he asked, never having dropped that Americanism. "How's Ellingham?" **

"**I'm not sure. I've quite a bit to think about. But I don't want to be in Oxford any longer. There's no hurry to sort out Dad's house. I'll be back in London tomorrow. I need to be with all of you. "**

"**That would be good. We've missed you, Harriett. We love you – I love you – very much."**

**Closing her eyes against the tears, she choked "Me too. See you tomorrow, my love."**

**This is all she could wish for Martin Ellingham. A life finally filled with love. She could only hope she set that course for him tonight.**

**Continued . . . . **


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14  
**

**Normalcy  
**

**On the Monday following Christmas, Martin Ellingham awoke in a lethargic state. Rather than pull himself from bed, he ignored the alarm and rolled away from the frost-covered windows. He was exhausted.**

**The nasty influenza that attacked the children of Port Wenn made its way to Delabole soon after Dr. Tim Williams left for Christmas in Birkenhead. Young patients awaited Martin's arrival at the Delabole surgery****, and their number only increased over the next two days. ****Rather than travel back to the village, he remained at the surgery, sleeping as he could.**

**A disappointed Aunt Joan phoned him Christmas morning saying she was off to High Trees and would leave a mince pie at his kitchen door. He thanked her for the gift, all the while hoping a village dog would find it before he did. **

**Chris Parsons reached him later in the day whilst he drove between two farms on wet, rutted roads. Home visits were a horror in Port Wenn, but in Delabole parents of sick children greeted him with gratitude. This and his old friend's encouraging words made for a better day. "Look, Mart, you and Louisa are fantastic together. Knock on her door and sort this out. You can be married in the New Year. You need her."**

**He missed a call from Harriett Jaffe whose message was recorded against a backdrop of laughter from her three sons. "Martin, sorry for the din, but we're having a lazy day at home with takeaway and silly films. It was lovely catching up with you, and I'm grateful you sought my help. Treatment will be difficult, but it will make surgery and London possible. Here's to a good New Year for you." ****  
**

**To be a surgeon again. To have a normal life. To control his schedule rather than being controlled by unpredictable patients. It all seemed unattainable as he took one more temperature and prescribed one more dose of re-hydration salts. Dads arrived at Delabole's surgery carrying feverish children wrapped in blankets and grasping new toys. Men extended hands glazed with grime from oil rigs, farms and quarries. Each said a version of: "Sorry to take you away from family on Christmas, Doc. We appreciate you seeing to the kiddies. They mean the world to us."**

**Finally returning to Port Wenn on Sunday afternoon, Martin attended to several diabetics who had over-indulged in Christmas sweets and somehow blamed him. Then a fight erupted at the pub over the Christmas song named England's top choice, and his surgery was filled with bent fingers and bloodied noses. This left him muttering "imbeciles" and "morons" as he fixed their injuries with not a word of thanks. **

**Now on Monday morning, he hadn't a decent meal for days nor much sleep. He felt dirty, hungry and didn't doubt he had a touch of flu. He would allow himself half an hour before making his way to the shower and another thankless day in Port Wenn. **

**Traveling between villages allowed time to consider Harriett Jaffe's advice. She was right that he researched phobia treatments as he had years earlier. But now he took a more practical approach, even following a course on the NHS website for those with anxiety disorders. It first seemed directed at simpletons suffering agoraphobia, but it did have merit. He was ****re-introduced to the practise of meditation which he foolishly stopped in London. He vowed to resume in the New Year. **

**Coupled with the course was his attempt at de-sensitization by cutting apart bloody animal organs. His symptoms persisted, and the discarded offal only attracted hungry animals to his surgery bins. ****Certainly he did not need a psychiatrist, despite Harriett's opinion that he did. Short-term CBT was more likely to help, and he vowed to contact the psychologist in Plymouth.**

**His most troubling thoughts were of Louisa. Analysing their wedding day, Martin concluded that he had been duped by the idiotic vicar into not marrying Louisa. ****Last night, after the positive self-talk recommended by the website, he determined to see her. They might have dinner at the Truro restaurant where they met the Parsons. It was half term, and she likely had little to do. Harriett thought Louisa a good match for him, and Chris said they could work out their differences. **

**That optimistic thought took him from bed to bath and eventually the kitchen. He had finished breakfast and was pouring a second cup of coffee when Pauline burst into the kitchen a full 10 minutes early. She was breathing heavily as if a pack of dogs had chased her. "Calm yourself, Pauline. You don't want to be the first patient of the day. We've a busy schedule and you must be settled. Do you want coffee?"**

"**No, Doc, sorry. It's just that. . . . Oh, I forgot. Thanks for the extra bit in my pay packet. It was a big surprise. I told Al that I expected something, but it was more than I hoped for. Mum said Doc Sims never gave that much for Christmas. It means I'm doing a good job, right Doc?"**

"**You'd be doing a better job if you remembered to bring in the supplies I ordered. See if Mrs. Tishell will open her door early and go fetch them. But walk slowly - there's no need to race about the village."**

"**But there is Doc. You see my mum lives a few doors from Miss Glasson. That's what I want to tell you."**

"**Pauline, I'm well aware of your mother's house. I've been there often enough for her imaginary illnesses. I may have a trip to Truro tomorrow and can't waste time. Now off with you."**

"**No, first I have to tell you. It's why I rushed here. Mum gets awake early to wee. It's those water tablets you gave her for blood pressure. This morning she saw Miss Glasson outside her cottage with a box and two big cases. Mum went to wee, but looked out the window again and saw a car pull up. A man put everything in the boot and off they went. The man was Danny Steele. Mum's known him forever, and there's no mistake. You see, Doc, Miss Glasson's gone off with Danny Steele!"**

"T**hat's absurd," he scoffed. "Your mother's an attention-seeker, and she's playing you for a fool. I'll not be brought into her stupidity. Patients will be here soon and you must focus."**

"**No, it's not Mum being all mad-like. Danny brought his mother from London to High Trees last night. Al saw him when he dropped off Mrs. McGinley. Said he was staying the night at Fowler's B&B and driving back to London early today. Al will know about Danny's car, and I'll ask Mum if it's the same. I'll let you know."**

"**Yes, do that Pauline. Meanwhile, Mrs. Tishell's."**

**All the more reason for returning to London. No one could possibly conjure the tales Pauline told. Normalcy, yes, normalcy was what he craved. Closing his eyes, Martin breathed deeply hoping to cleanse his mind of Pauline's nonsensical story. Then his mobile rang. If it were Tim Williams, he could bloody well manage Delabole himself. **

**Oh, good, only Aunt Joan. Probably still angry about Christmas dinner. "Ellingham," he stated by rote. **

"**Martin, are you back? Have you heard the news then?"**

**For the hundredth time he wondered why Joan bothered him with gossip or even thought he cared to know it. "Yes, I'm here. But my schedule's full, and I've no time for chat."**

"**My darling boy, this is unpleasant, but you must know before the gossip begins. Louisa Glasson's gone off to London. Mu Steele only now rang saying Danny's given her a lift. She's taken a post teaching maths at an independent school. Danny's girlfriend is helping her with a flat, and her cottage is to be let. Louisa resigned from the school and asked Stu MacKenzie for discretion. For once in his life, he complied. Martin, you must do something. She'll be lost to you forever."**

**During the first half of Joan's recital, Martin reached for a chair as his stomach heaved, sweat gushed from his pores and he became dizzy. Blast, he had picked up the flu. Hands shaking, he listened impassively as Joan blathered on about Louisa and what he must do immediately. He had been stubborn, but that must stop this minute. He could be in London shortly and bring Louisa back. The village could do without him for a day. He only need tell her how he felt, that the wedding was not a mistake, he wanted to marry her, she belonged in Port Wenn with him. "It's quite simple, Martin, now get on with it," she commanded. **

**He was able to say, "I'm not feeling well Aunty Joan. I must go now" before ringing off. It was true then. Louisa was off to London and with Danny Steele. But if he had a girlfriend, perhaps it was only a lift to the city. She'd hate London and be back in no time. Martin need not chase after her. This wasn't a romance, this was real life, and people did not do that. Certainly Martin Ellingham did not do that. **

**Slowly his pulse stabilised, the sweating ceased and his stomach settled. It was not flu but the sort of nausea he experienced on seeing blood. His first thought was that there was no need for dinner in Truro. His second thought was that Louisa was lost to him forever, and he had no idea what to do. Work would have to see him through it. Normalcy, yes, normalcy was all he needed. **

**Martin removed from his espresso maker a small basket holding coffee grounds and carried it to the scullery bin. There he spotted the envelopes found outside his kitchen door last night. Dogs had found the mince pie, and its remnants smeared the envelopes. He gingerly sifted through them until spotting one with familiar handwriting. Inside the envelope was a white card with a holly wreath on the front and the words "Merry Christmas" printed in red. He again took a chair to read: **

"**Dear Martin. I had a lovely Christmas with Isobel in St. Austell and have now returned on Boxing Day to complete my packing. You will likely be working, but I did want you to know that I am leaving Port Wenn. I will be teaching maths at my friend's school in London for the spring term. There is the possibility of another post at her school or elsewhere in the city for the fall term. With all that has happened, I need a change in my life. If you have a free moment, it would be good if we could talk before I leave on Monday. Please ring me if you like. Fondly, Louisa."**

**London. Louisa was off to London rather than the other way round. But she did want to see him. He'd phone her now – try to explain about Delabole and the flu – he did want to see her – was seeking help for his phobia. She would want to know that. He quickly pressed her mobile number but it rang with no answer. He repeated the action three times until he heard: "Louisa Glasson's phone." **

"**Who's this," he demanded. "Martin, it's Danny Steele. Louisa's in the loo. I'll have her ring you in a minute. Oh wait, here she is now." Then he overhead the unctuous Steele say: "Feeling better? Here's your Coke. Doc Martin's calling you."**

**Clearing her throat, Louisa wanly said: "Hullo, Martin."**

"**Are you feeling ill? Do you have flu? You shouldn't be traveling. Um, you must return to Port Wenn immediately and let me see you – treat you. A Coke will do nothing for flu but de-hydrate you even more. Was that Steele's idea?"**

"**No, Martin. I fancied a Coke, that's all. I'm sorry we weren't able to meet before I left. It would have been good to talk," she said in a still weak voice. **

"**Louisa, you don't sound well. Do you have a fever? Any muscle pain or stiffness?"**

"**I'm fine, Martin, fine. I only took the post a week ago, and it's been difficult organising the move so quickly. I'm a bit tired."**

"**But Louisa, why are you leaving? You're head of school. London's crowded, dirty and horribly expensive. You didn't like living there during university. It's only gotten worse."**

"**Martin, I've no other way to say this, and I hope you'll understand. I'm leaving Port Wenn because I can't continue skulking around the village, trying to avoid you at every turn. It's become very uncomfortable. London's ****a way of starting fresh in a place where I'll not be wary of seeing you. It sounds horrid, and I don't mean it to be so. If I'm in London for a year or so, things may change and I'll be able to return. Perhaps even teach again in Port Wenn. But that's a long way off, and I've much to consider at the moment."**

"**Y****ou don't have to avoid me, Louisa. I planned to phone you today and have a talk. I saw a psychiatrist in Oxford just before Christmas. Not an actual consult, but a friend from training. She was quite helpful nonetheless. I'd begun working on the blood issue, and she's recommended a psychologist.**

"**Oh, Martin, that's good. Very good really. Perhaps the psychologist will help with other things as well." **

"**What do you mean?"**

"**From what little you told me about your parents, it seems they had a hand in the haemophobia. At least the basis for it."**

"**My parents had nothing to do with my blood issue. It occurred well after my relationship with them ended. The high level of stress I experienced as a surgeon caused the problem, not my parents." **

**He could not admit even to Louisa – especially Louisa – how dreadful his parents had been. Mum in particular. As he lingered in the surgery, dressed for his wedding, fidgeting with Louisa's wedding band, his mother's words had haunted him: "You ruined my life." Was he about to ruin Louisa's life as well? With his defence mechanism firmly in place, Martin prepared to push Louisa away that day.**

"**Martin, stress may have been the primary cause of your phobia, but your parents had an effect as well. I know what my parents did to me." **

**It had taken Louisa years to understand that her mother's leaving had made her feel insecure, needy and unworthy of love. If her own mum left her, why would a man ever want her? As it turned out, she was right for being insecure. Martin did not want to marry her. In the perverse game played on their wedding day, she won by rejecting him before he could reject her. Or so she thought, until he said: "You wouldn't make me happy either."**

**Not happy, not make Martin happy! It had been her conceit that she did make Martin happy. How else could they have sustained a relationship for three years with nothing but a few kisses. She thought Martin would be quite happy with her, but he said the opposite. Alright then, she did not need him, even now. Thank God, Holly gave her a job. She'd be away from Port Wenn and could finally, finally be rid of Martin Ellingham. **

**With his next comment, Martin made it clear that he was happy not to have married her and be forced to remain in Port Wenn:**

"**Yes, Louisa, your parents did have a negative effect on your life just as mine did. It will be helpful to address my issues and hopefully return to surgery. I'll likely move on from Port Wenn. It will be good to leave this ghastly place."**

**Heartsick at leaving her beloved village, Martin's description of Port Wenn stung. **

"**Returning to London will be good, Martin. ****Port Wenn served its purpose, and I can understand how the villagers have worn you down. They are a sorry lot if you have only a duty of care for them."**

**She was a villager, one of the sorry lot Martin cared for only as a duty. Well, then, she'd remain in London until he left Port Wenn. **

"**We've about three more hours of travel, Martin, and I've meetings in the afternoon. I'll say good bye and get on with it."**

"**Right. Right. My schedule's full today, and I must crack on as well. Um, good bye then Louisa." **

**Simultaneously, Martin and Louisa closed their eyes and opened them seconds later to face the reality they had created. **

**Continued . . . .**

**Author's Note: With gratitude to DeclanS and Chapin.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15  
**

**Niceties**

"**Ready, Lou," Danny asked with a tinge of impatience. Louisa mustered her brightest smile and nodded as they walked toward his Prius. If the pregnancy hadn't made her nauseous, Danny's nattering on about his new-found fondness for green living would have done so. Today she envied his ability to change easily from one belief to the next. Could she do the same, her drastic move to London would be more tolerable.**

**What concerned her most was leaving Port Wenn Primary with no head teacher . "We'll find someone, don't you worry," Stu MacKenzie assured her. "This is a nice post you've given up, and it'll be filled quickly. I can't say we're not disappointed, Louisa, leaving us in the lurch. But we understand what with, well, you know." **

**Ordinarily Stu's oblique reference to Martin would have raised her hackles, but no more. Thinking they were consoling her, many villagers said horrid things about Martin in the last two months. She tired of defending him and soon learned to say nothing. Indeed, what was there to say? ****Almost with the fastening of her seat belt, Danny's mobile rang. "Sorry, Lou, I've a number of calls this morning. If you mind the speakerphone, I'll use the headset."**

"**No, Danny. It's not a bother. Let me rest a bit."**

**As she faded in and out of sleep, Danny droned on about congestion taxes, skip fees, and why the bloody Council woman wanted copper piping. With hands folded on her stomach, Louisa longed to feel the baby. The slight swell of her uterus was the barely visible indication that she was pregnant. She could manage most of the spring term before her condition became apparent. Even then, the DPW rules said she could not be sacked. Following the July birth, she would have six weeks before returning to Holly's school or another in the city. **

**Through the London Mum's website, she had investigated child care costs and could make do with the child benefit and tax credit. Had she remained at Port Wenn Primary, her maternity allowance would have been considerably more. Savings must bridge the gap.**

**A local girl could mind the child when she returned to the village. Plenty of people needed jobs, and the cost would be reasonable. When Dad left prison in a few years, he might care for his grandchild. She hadn't written to either parent about the baby and would let them know only after the birth. Her mother would have little interest, but her father likely pleased. For years he had urged her to find a man and present him with a grandchild. Well she had found a man – at least for a short time – and the baby would arrive soon.**

**Contrary to Martin's comment, Louisa would not have her period for a fortnight following the concert. A few days later when they made love, she realized she could be ovulating but said nothing. Still stunned by his proposal, she only wanted him: fates be damned. **

**She had been sexually attracted to Martin since coaxing their first date from him. Meeting that Wednesday evening on the Platte, Louisa inhaled his noticeably masculine scent as wind blew across the harbour. He entered the pub with an air of confidence, and his self-deprecating quip about the interview panel was amusing. She quite liked him. **

**Mark Mylow's interruption had ruined their evening, leaving her alone to muse about Martin as a lover. It was very unlike her, and Louisa shuddered recalling how vividly she would think of him. She even imagined the endearments he would whisper, their soul-revealing conversations afterward.**

**When Danny left her once again, it was a relief. She had never wanted him; she wanted Martin. That night she determined to have him. With her command to wait, she bought wine at the pub, and then ordered Martin to his surgery for a talk. As they drank the first bottle, and then the second left by his father, each became less guarded. Martin reached across the table several times, touched her hair and even stroked her arm. He tried telling a story about the one and only prank he perpetrated in Sixth Form, but looked blankly at her: "Why am I talking about this rubbish when you're here?" **

"**Because, Martin, that's what people do when they're meant to know each other. They talk about things that were significant in their lives. Sometimes they're humourous, sometimes not. The day my mother left seemed ordinary enough, but even now I recall everything. Dad was off somewhere, and she fed me cakes, then washed and brushed my hair. When a man came to fetch her, Mum handed me a letter for my dad. That's how you said good bye to someone. 'Never tell a man directly, Louisa, it's too messy. Leave a letter and get on with it,' she said. **

"**I gave Mum's letter to Dad the second he entered the cottage. It did prove quite messy. He had read only a little of it when he began smashing cups and glasses to the floor. Then he went off to the pub, and I didn't see him 'til the next afternoon. He only said that we'd be on our own, and I was to forget about my mum. He had already done so. We were not to say her name ever again."**

**Martin nodded solemnly, saying his mother hadn't left, but he had little to do with her or his father. He was an embarrassment to them, save for his school marks. It was easy to forget them at boarding school, but on holidays, he had to live in their London house. His father would provide pocket money and tell him to "get lost." Taking him literally, Martin spent school holidays roaming London either by foot or tube. He only need pay transport fares or the occasional entry to a museum. The housekeeper made sandwiches for him, happy to have another Ellingham out of the house for the day. **

**He recalled being 14 and talking with his parents only twice during his summer holiday. Once whilst accompanying his father to the uniform supplier for Tonbridge. The second, an encounter with his mother as she waited for a car. She looked quite done up and was off to a luncheon in Kensington. He planned visiting a music shop near her destination and asked if he might ride with her. Looking totally offended she had asked: "Are you mad? How would I explain you to my friends?"**

**Both were now well into their cups, and Louisa knew she must act. She asked Martin not to talk about medical matters. He was to say only nice things or nothing. He had surprised her by opening his heart, kissing her and saying he loved her. Her plan went horribly awry when he fell asleep after warning he might. Another missed opportunity with Martin, but she now understood this man more. With his horrid parents, little wonder he could not say nice things to her or anyone at all. Still, she had not given up on Martin Ellingham.**

**When they finally made love, it was without benefit of drink. Martin said nice things then and each time that followed. She savoured his words as they nestled together lost in each other. He was unabashedly poetic in speaking of her hair, body and lips. She knew English literature well yet recognized none of his phrases. One night after comparing her to "a lacey bower of encircling warmth," she asked from which poem it came. He smiled slightly, saying he only thought of it as she fell onto his chest and her arms came round his neck. **

"**Martin, what you've said is beautiful. I thought you were recalling poems from school, but it's from you – from your heart." **

**Bringing her closer, he whispered: "Poetry from my heart, humbled by your love."**

**Those words had taken her breath away and assured her that they were marrying for love, to grow old together, to have children together. What, then, changed on their wedding day?**

**It wasn't only the wheedling of Roger, Pauline and Isobel, others had questioned her reasons for marrying Martin so quickly. Maureen Fenn boldly asked if Louisa were pregnant as she had been when marrying Roger. **

**Seeing Louisa at the chemist, Muriel Steele was gracious but queried: "Are you marrying him only because my Danny went off to London without you?" Of course that cow, Sally Tishell, had to add: "Dr. Ellingham's quite brilliant. It's a pity he didn't choose a wife with a medical background. Someone who could talk intelligently about journal articles and the like."**

**If Louisa had a quid for each time she heard: "marry in haste, repent at leisure," there would be no need for work in London. Why couldn't a couple simply marry when they wished. She and Martin were mature adults and understood what each wanted, didn't they?**

**The night before the wedding, as they dined with Joan Norton, Louisa was confident in her love for Martin. Joan was brimming with delight as she chattered on about their life together, hinting at children, discussing where they'd live, holidays, all the things Louisa had dreamed of since childhood. Suddenly, it was very real. She pinched herself to make certain Martin was there, touching her leg under the table in a way that said, "Let the old girl talk, we'll be alone soon." **

**Joan refused Martin's suggestion that he drive her to the farm, insisting that two glasses of Champagne had no effect on her. She waved from her truck with a smile brighter than the moon hanging over the harbour. **

**Louisa had intended to sleep in her cottage that night, her last as a spinster. As she took up her pocketbook, Martin seemed confused: "You're not staying?"**

**"Oh, it's a bit silly, but I thought we should be apart tonight." Her voice trailed off as Martin reached for her almost as desperately as the day he proposed. "Don't leave me, Louisa, not now, not ever." It had been exquisite with Martin that night. Their bodies and minds were united in passion, understanding and what she knew was deep, unending love. She fell asleep assured that their marriage would be happy.**

**This was what Louisa told India Cloverley shortly after Danny dropped her at Holyrood Family Refuge. Crying and sipping coconut water, Louisa talked on about Martin, despite the noise of children being scolded in many languages. Danny's beautiful girlfriend handed her tissues as lodgers and staff entered the office with bits and pieces for India's attention. **

**Several listened for a few minutes and patted Louisa's hand in sympathy for the similar plights they had endured. She had never heard the word "bastard" spoken with so many different accents. Their care and concern made her feel as if she were still in Port Wenn. People were kind, even in London.**

**Louisa's good opinion of London was seriously challenged later that day when she met India's friend, Barbara Bosley Bournham. **

**Continued. . . .**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16  
**

**Haven**

**Louisa became somewhat confused on the long tube ride to North Ealing, making her ten minutes late for the estate agent. Clutching a photo of the woman, she anxiously scanned the crowd and repeatedly rang the agent's engaged mobile. Soon a very thin, very blonde, very harried woman holding a phone and cigarette accosted her: "You're late. I'm only doing this as a favour for India, and I've another appointment at five. Shall we get on with it."**

**Walking briskly to match the woman's steps, Louisa gasped her name, gratitude and apologies for the delay.**

"**Actually, you're not all that late. I always allow half an hour. More if they're buying a fantastic property. I'm Barbara Bosley Bournham, but everyone knows me as Babs. Remember that at your school. You're to tell the parents I was your estate agent, and you know the Cloverleys. Don't say India Cloverley, only the Cloverleys. Got it?"**

**Louisa nodded, fascinated by the speed with which Babs moved in her tall leather boots with impossibly high heels. "It's only over there, the next street. Fully furnished, modern shower bath, new cooker, dishwasher. India told you no parking, right?"**

"**Yes," Louisa struggled to say. "I've sold my car. And I've brought only a few things with me. It sounds lovely."**

**Minutes later they arrived at No. 1128 Hewlett Road, a faded brick building with a bright blue entry door. Babs extracted a circle of keys from her coat pocket and grimaced as she led Louisa up three sets of stairs to the top storey. A second blue door was opened to reveal a cozy bedsit tucked under the eaves. As promised, the bath and kitchen were nicely fitted out, and the contemporary furniture had the right scale for the small space. It would do very well, she assured Babs.**

"**Alright then, the building's owned by the batty daughter of an actor who worked at the BBC studio in Ealing Green. He died years ago, but she can't bear parting with it. She keeps the rate low and is always on me to find struggling actors and artists to let it. Her name's Monique or something of the sort. If she comes round, you might talk about the theatre and art. **

"**Now you're not to move the furniture about. She has it arranged by _feng shui_ principles for good fortune. The bloody blue doors are part of it. They signify safe haven or something of the sort. Alright, then, we'll need the papers and such. Have you the two cheques?"**

**In short order, Louisa signed the lease and received from Babs two sets of keys, a packet of her business cards and a bottle of wine. "No time for a drink, but welcome to your new home, that sort of thing. Must be off." Then Louisa received her first of many London air kisses from this altogether exhausting woman who clattered down the stairs before she could thank her!**

**Two hours later Louisa awoke on the narrow white bed she intended trying only for comfort. Despite her coat it was a bit chilly in her new home, and she had not asked about the heating. So small was the space that one radiator seemed to provide all the warmth needed. She fiddled with its controller and soon heard clanking as the radiator grew hot. Good. She dreaded phoning the Babs woman for anything. Glancing at her mobile, Louisa saw it was after seven, and Danny should bring her luggage soon. He promised half seven but was forever late. **

**A buzzer startled her, and she saw a small red light flashing at the door. Ah, to open the building door she recalled. She pressed a button marked "release" and went to the flat door. Looking down the stairs, she saw a young man and India. "Louisa," she shouted, "you should have asked our names. It could've been Jack the Ripper." To the man, India said: "Hope you've taken your vitamins today. You've those two cases and a box to carry. I'll bring the takeaway.**

**Unlike Babs, India wore plimsoles and made no noise as she quickly climbed the three flights of stairs. The young man behind her moved more slowly as he hefted a large box upward. Inside the flat, India looked around: "Well, Babs did us proud. This is quite nice, isn't it? Not pokey at all. I've brought supper and Colin to carry your things. Danny's pressed him into service, I'm afraid. Are there plates and such in the kitchen?"**

**Louisa found in a cupboard plain, white crockery, cutlery and a variety of glassware. Colin arrived with her two bags as she was laying out the round white table for three: "Thanks, but I can't stay," he said. "Must be back to the site. Danny's having problems with the plumbers, and he'll need me there. Should I take the car or the tube, India?"**

**"Take the car. Please tell Danny he's to be here no later than nine." Ruefully she added "Of course, it'll be a piece of luck if he's on time."**

**With Colin about to leave, Louisa reached into her pocketbook: "Let me give you something for your help. I'm very grateful." **

"**No, not at all," he shrugged. "I'm certain Danny will find a way to reward me. Maybe stay away from the building, so we can work in peace." With a wave, Colin wished them goodnight and clambered down the stairs. **

"**It was very kind of Colin and you to bring supper and my luggage. Thank you very much, India. This flat, for being my Agony Aunt this afternoon. I apologize. It just overtook me when I began talking of Martin. I thought it was over, but of course it never is."**

"**Louisa, I've been divorced nearly five years and still recall the day I married Chester. We were terribly young, and I thought my life would be ideal. I'd stumbled through uni having fun and making do with mediocre marks. Never did I expect to earn my living. With what I'm paid at the shelter, the only place I could afford to live in London would be the shelter. If the Cloverleys weren't so guilty for what they did, I'd have nothing. **

"**My parents could help a bit, but they aren't wealthy. It's like being a kept woman, tied to my ex-husband. My children forced to spend holidays with his parents to pay their school fees. They've been away from me since Christmas Eve and not back for another two days. It's galling, but I've no other choice. No man but Danny would put up with it all. Can't see me at the flat, can't meet my children. All the nonsense the Cloverleys imposed on me. You've made a career and can care for yourself. I must do as they say."**

"**But you could take more courses India. Study anything you like. Many women do that sort of thing when the children are a bit older."**

"**I suppose so. I'm quite good at listening to people and helping them work through problems. Likely I learned it from Chester and his endless whinging. He never followed through on my suggestions, especially that he stop drinking. That's what ended our marriage. Of course, there were his tarts as well, but the Cloverleys weren't to know about them.**

"**Enough, of men," India exclaimed. "Let's have our meal and talk about world events or the royals. Now that's a family with troubles."**

**After a supper in which Louisa laughed more than in many weeks, India helped bring things to the tiny kitchen. There she spotted the wine left by Babs: "Should we toast your new life in London? Danny will be here soon to join us."**

"**Um, yes, that would be nice. But I've a bit of a funny tummy. Why don't you and Danny have the wine. The estate agent gave it to me, and I'll not be able to drink it for a time."**

"**No, I wouldn't dream of it, Louisa. You'll probably need it when you start the new term at Addie's. It's a stuffy school where people take everything, including themselves, much too seriously."**

"**Yes, I know what my friend's like. But I had little choice as no other posts were quickly available. I'll begin looking now for the fall term. Perhaps even a school near here. It would be convenient with the baby and all." Blast, what had she just said?**

**Narrowing her eyes, India looked at Louisa's stomach and asked: "Are you pregnant? Is that why you've come to London? Now that's a horse of another colour. This is not just the end of a romance with Martin. You're to be parents. Does he know?"**

**Louisa could only shake her head, not meeting India's gaze.**

"A**t the shelter we tell women no matter how much you hate him or what he's done to you, a child connects you forever. Louisa, you've an obligation to that child. The father as well. He must know about the baby."**

"**Absolutely not," Louisa responded forcefully. " Martin's a bit different, and he dislikes children. He would want an abortion. I couldn't bear to do it. I want this baby. Truly it's best that Martin not know of the pregnancy. He'll want nothing to do with the child, and there's no need for him to take responsibility. I have it all worked out. I can manage on my own."**

"**Louisa, you've no idea of a baby. All the time, effort and attention. I had a nurse with each of my children and little to do beyond their feed. Only with that, I was exhausted, and I had my first at 25."**

**Before India could say more, the buzzer sounded. This time Louisa asked "who's there," before releasing the outer door. **

"**Lou, it's Danny. There's no parking. Have India come down. I'll see your flat another time."**

**India gathered her coat and bag before taking Louisa's hand and engaging her eyes: "A baby is very serious, Louisa. You may not need Martin, but a child needs a father. Get settled in, but don't lose sight of that. Promise."**

**Nodding her head, Louisa again thanked India, who moved quickly down the stairs where Danny awaited. He reached for her, but she carefully moved away, a consideration Louisa appreciated. She called "goodnight" as they walked through the front door. **

**From the flat's window, she saw India now move into Danny's arms. He held her for a moment, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Those who comforted needed comforting. This had been her idea of marriage to Martin. They tended to patients and children throughout the day and too many nights. Once together, they would provide the comfort needed to see each other through their draining days.**

**Feelings of envy, fear and loss competed for Louisa's mind as she fell to the bed and wrapped herself in a white duvet. Sleep was her haven that night, but there would be other nights in which that merciful bit of comfort eluded her. **

**Continued . . . **


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17  
**

**Reality**

**Like Louisa, sleep did not elude Martin Ellingham that night. After preparing what should have been an appetizing dinner, he forced himself to eat the braised chicken, carrots and beetroot sauteed in olive oil. Surgery had been hideous that day with endless speculation about Louisa Glasson's departure from Port Wenn. Subsequent days would bring the same, until the dark winter weather provided other complaints for the villagers.**

**Too distracted to read, Martin switched on the telly and was caught up in a film about scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. For a blithering moment, it all seemed a good idea to the climbers and to him. He fell asleep on the sofa and awoke the next morning stiff and still tired. **

**Throughout the day, Pauline was unnaturally quiet, likely having strained her voice by scheduling needless appointments. Time was granted to every chin-wagger and old biddy to tell him why Louisa left Port Wenn, why it was his fault and what should be done about it. By close of surgery, he'd had enough and left without responding to Pauline's "where you off to, Doc?"**

**He took his car slowly through the village, watching heads turn away, as he drove to the moor. Five miles from Cardinham Woods, he stopped at an abandoned quarry discovered after his first encounter with Stewart James. Introducing him to an imaginary 6 foot squirrel was a bit barmy. But when the forest ranger aimed a rifle at him, Martin feared he should be sectioned under the Mental Health Act.**

**Hurrying from Stewart's station, he was a bit shaken and paused at the quarry to relieve himself. The pit's bracken water reminded him of ponds near St. Benedict's and Tonbridge where he would escape from the bullying boys. Silently, methodically he would heave stones into the water until his anger was spent and his body exhausted. Then he would slink back to his lessons where no boy could have the better of him.**

**That first day with Stewart, he tossed rocks into the quarry pit and was calmed by their resounding splashes as they hit water. After his parents left Port Wenn and Louisa told him to shut up, he rushed from the Steele house to the quarry. He began by heaving large slates at the walls to ease the pain caused by the two women. As his strength waned, he seized ever-smaller stones until he could throw no more. **

**Now, he again hurled chunks of rock into the quarry pit. Not because of anyone else, but only himself. He was angry, so very angry with himself. For not marrying Louisa, for not going after her as she trod down Rosscarrock Hill, for not having the decency to talk with her these last few months. Had he made any attempt to sort out their differences, she likely would have remained in Port Wenn.**

**Harriett was right. He was a mess. He must see the psychologist in Plymouth. He wondered if he could be mad. The climbers on Kilimanjaro thought themselves mad as the oxygen thinned and their brains were forced to adapt. Perhaps his brain had reached its limits of adaptation. **

**Many thought him quite insane for not seeking treatment and leaving his orderly, circumspect life in London. His only reason for enduring Port Wenn had now abandoned him to fend alone in a city she hated. One last mighty kick from him toppled a near-boulder over the pit's edge. A tremendous roar sounded when it reached bottom. Mad though he may be, at least he was exhausted. Now sleep would come.**

**He entered a nearby pub for the warmth of coffee and soup, both of which were tastier than expected. It was quiz night, and he lingered to mentally answer every question that baffled the patrons. My God, if Stanley Jaffe and his Oxford tutors saw him now. He had gone from the cream of British academe to the dregs of the West Country. His only hope was overcoming the haemophobia and persuading some institution that he could function as a surgeon once more. With a vow to redouble his efforts, he left the pub and drove through the dark night to Port Wenn. **

**Switching on the surgery computer, he checked email for lab results from Truro. A message from Tim Williams thanked him effusively for allowing his short holiday from Delabole. The poor sod was so intimidated by Martin, that he addressed him as Dr. Ellingham. "Parents were very grateful that you held surgery hours on Christmas and Boxing Day as well as the home visits. My mother also sends her gratitude as we celebrated the engagement of my sister, Lia, over Christmas. Please call on me at any time for assistance." **

**Not very likely, Martin thought, but little wonder the patients were grateful for his care. Williams was but a year out of medical training, and Delabole was a demanding practise. Perhaps he should talk to Chris Parsons about working with the young GP as he could. No, no, he couldn't do that, much as he would like. He must concentrate on remedying his condition and returning to London. Without Louisa, he'd go mad in Cornwall, if he weren't already. Having the hottest shower his ancient boiler allowed eased his muscles so that he could have the little comfort sleep provided.**

**Louisa Glasson was ending her day in a similar fashion. Tonight she had managed a shower and her tatty pyjamas before sliding into bed and recounting her day. In the morning she arrived at Augusta Ada Lovelace School well ahead of Holly. The shorter tube trip to Turnham Green had been easier than yesterday's journey. Addie, as students called the school, was located in a former home for indigent spinsters from good families.**

**Parents were taken with the building's history and, more importantly, its odd configuration allowed them to purchase it at cut-rate. It was fitted out with proper electrics, plumbing and heating, but the layout remained a puzzle. Offices and common rooms were on the middle floor, while classrooms were on the main and top levels. Louisa would come to dread the thundering noise of hundreds of girls tromping between floors for lessons. Today, as she awaited Holly in the vestibule, it seemed only a gracious, quiet building. **

**With her dramatic flair very much in evidence, Holly arrived by taxi, talking loudly into her mobile and simultaneously scolding the driver for making her late. Louisa and the man exchanged pained looks with his clearly saying: "I'm well rid of her. She's all yours."**

"**Louisa, darling, welcome to Augusta Ada Lovelace School. Isn't it fantastic? We can't wait for you to begin. I'd kill for a cup of tea. Come through, shall we."**

**Yesterday's experience with Babs had prepared Louisa to walk rapidly down the corridor and up a flight of stairs in the wake of her jabbering friend. She comprehended nothing Holly was saying, which frightened her a bit. What if she couldn't organise the job? They'd sack her and then what? No, she must forget about Martin. She must do well and somehow fit into Holly's school. **

**Over a cup of green tea, Holly first explained that the school was named after Lord Byron's only legitimate child, Augusta Ada. She was a brilliant mathematician and married a Mr. King, who later became Lord Lovelace. In the 19th Century she worked with Charles Babbage on his analytical engine and was thought to be an inventor of computer programming. The American government implemented her work to develop ADA, a universal computer language now used by the military and many international organizations. **

**The school's emphasis was on maths, and Holly had been charged with raising the GCSE scores to the top range of British schools. This year they expected to reach 98 percent As. Dropping her voice, Holly confided that the maths teacher Louisa would replace had been taken to a private clinic for treatment of recurring anorexia. "Quite a pity really. All because of a man, it seems." **

**Looking pointedly at Louisa, she continued: "You don't have her problem. Perhaps, you could shift some weight. We like to set an example here for the girls. If a man has a choice between a thin girl with a first from Cambridge or a pudgy one with the same, you know which one he'll marry."**

**Louisa's hands moved protectively to her stomach. No one had ever thought her fat and she feared that Holly may sense her pregnancy. She must be very careful in what she ate. **

**Holly removed a file from her large case and handed it to Louisa: "You're to have five lessons a day and three on Friday. The other times you are to meet with individual girls who are falling a bit behind. We give practise tests each Friday afternoon and piles of work on weeknights. Most of the girls have private tutors for the weekends, so there are fewer tasks on Friday. You're also to manage the Junior Maths Society which meets on Tuesdays. At your desk, you'll find the books and syllabus left by our Director of Studies, Liliana Orestes. Staff returns on January 5, and you'll meet everyone then."**

**Louisa nodded meekly as Holly went on about salary payments, assembly and managing interfering parents. She need only remember that Liliana was there to help her, especially with the mothers. As almost an afterthought, Holly asked if Louisa had found a place to live.**

"**Yes, it's a small bedsit in Ealing. Has all the mod-cons and is a short tube ride from school. I was quite lucky finding it through a friend from Port Wenn."**

"**Not the doctor! Don't tell me he left you at the church and then tried to step in when you moved to London. The bastard," hissed Holly in her now-posh accent. **

"**First off, Holly," Louisa snapped, "it was mutual. No one left any one at the church. We realized we weren't right for each other. I decided not to marry him as much as he decided not to marry me."**

"**Louisa, are you mad? Deciding not to marry a doctor! You'll never have a chance like that in London. For every one doctor, there are twenty smart, pretty, young girls who will snag him before you can blink. You might want to reconsider."**

"**A man is the last thing I want, Holly. I've a great deal to consider at the moment and only want to do the best for you and the school. I'm looking forward to teaching again. It will be a good change for me."**

**After Holly escorted Louisa to her desk in a small office, she made her excuse to leave the school. "Busy, busy," she said as she scrolled through her mobile and hurried along the corridor to the stairs. **

**Although she had slept well the night before, Louisa was exhausted within an hour of Holly's departure. She walked slowly to the tube station, her large bag stuffed with books and papers. It was foggy and certainly colder than in Port Wenn. She must buy gloves and a warm scarf, having only her raincoat against the winter chill. **

**Food shopping as well. She fretted over the money spent this morning for the roll and milk bought on her way to the tube. Managing money was not her strength, and she had to budget carefully. London was expensive. As she moved through the afternoon throngs to the tube, she noticed bits of paper in the air, the grimy streets and overflowing bins. Martin's words returned: "London is dirty, expensive and crowded." Yes, it was all of these. But Martin Ellingham wasn't here. And that was exactly what Louisa thought she wanted.**

**Continued . . . **


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Craving  
**

**Harriett Jaffe would never forget the day she introduced George Baynes to her childhood friend, Nicola Perry. She and Nicola had last seen each other on a warm August day at Heathrow as her friend left for America to study psychology. Harriett had knitted a thick sweater to protect Nicola from the harsh Michigan winters, and it would not fit into her over-stuffed luggage. Tying it about her shoulders, Nicola laughed that she would wear it the next time she saw Harriett, no matter the weather.**

**Making good on her promise eight years later, Nicola was draped in the sweater when Harriet met her at the Philadelphia airport. This time, she also wore a coat as it was a blustery January day with the threat of snow. Nicola had traveled from Michigan to the University of Pennsylvania to participate in a Psychology Department colloquium on neuroscience and language. George Baynes, a doctoral candidate in psychology, joined Harriett for the programme. **

**Like many on Pradeep's ultimate Frisbee team, George was shy, brilliant and quite oblivious to the world. Resisting Harriett's many efforts to attach him to one of her many friends, George would only duck his head and mumble: "I'll let you know if I see someone I like." **

**As Nicola presented her paper, Harriett became ever-more impressed with her old friend's intellectual depth and eloquence in explaining her research. Ten minutes into her talk, George turned to Harriett and whispered: "I like her." **

**Surprised at his interest in Nicola, Harriett dutifully introduced them afterward. It was as if she and the other participants had disappeared. Nicola and George were instantly enthralled with each other and were married within six months. Three years later, George broke his mother's heart by leaving the States for Plymouth. Nicola took a faculty research post at the medical school, and George began a private psychology practise. They had twins the next year and insisted that Harriett be a Godmother to Celia and Pradeep a Godfather to Alexander. They joked that their four differing religions would work out if need be. **

**After seeing Martin Ellingham in Oxford, Harriet rang George telling him to expect a call from her former colleague about his haemophobia. She provided the slight background gleaned from Ellingham and warned the psychologist that he would be a "tough nut to crack." **

"**My specialty," George wryly noted. "Everyone in England is perfectly sane until you scratch a little below the surface. Half the menopausal women within 20 miles of Plymouth are agoraphobic and the rest are frightened by everything from Marmite to their daughters-in-law. Ellingham will be a welcome change. I haven't had a blood phobia since the paramedic in Philly."**

"**That's more than I can say. I've never treated a haemophobic, but that's only how his problems manifest themselves. You will find him quite intriguing if he'll say more than: 'My childhood is not the problem.' ****I assure you, it is."**

**Now, on another brisk January day, Martin Ellingham looked coldly at George Baynes and said in clipped tones: "My childhood is not the problem. As I have explained to you for the last half hour, I have a simple phobia to blood and the smell of cauterized flesh. It developed in a high stress surgical environment, and I would like to be done with it and return to that environment. I have completed the NHS on-line course of treatment and am following a desensitization regimen as the literature suggests. My aversion to blood and the resultant panic attacks have lessened. Dr. Jaffe thought that you could treat me with cognitive behaviour therapy, but it seems she was mistaken. I'll not take any more of your time."**

**My God, why did everything have to come down to his vile parents. Every psychiatrist and psychologist wanted to witter on about them, analyse his relationship with them, re-visit the details of his inconsequential childhood. None of which he wanted to do or saw any merit in doing. Surely there was a way to treat the last bit of the phobia without considering his parents. **

**He understood the theories. All problems stemmed from childhood and so forth. Rubbish. His childhood was not spent with his parents but with nannies and in boarding schools where no one cared a wit about him. It was only Aunt Joan and Uncle Phil who provided any semblance of parenting to him, and that was for brief periods during summer holiday. Otherwise, he was on his own. He raised himself. But no simpering American would understand that. **

**Of course, that was the problem. He would ask for a referral to an English psychologist. Someone who understood the British way of life, not the permissive "parents as friends" nonsense that the Americans found perfectly acceptable. He would make his excuses and return to Port Wenn immediately. No reason to linger in Plymouth. But then there was no reason to hurry back to Port Wenn. Any attraction he had to the village was now in London, where he aspired to be but couldn't quite reach. **

**Roger Fenn had called in yesterday after surgery with an excuse for a cup of tea and a chat. It had been another trying day, and the rain made the approaching night all the more bleak. Feeling tired and lonely, he invited Fenn into his kitchen. **

"**Martin, I know you aren't one for advice, but you need to see Louisa in London. You go on about how you want nothing more than to be in London and how much she hates London. Why not go on to London. The place must be brimming with shrinks who can help even a stubborn bastard like you. Forget this bloke in Plymouth. Get on to London, sort things out with Louisa and get treated. She's made the decision to leave the village. You could do the same. The PCT can find another GP for Port Wenn. Not as good as you, but good enough for this lot."**

**More to be rid of Fenn than any thought he would follow the man's suggestion, Martin agreed to consider the plan. Any decent psychologist could put him through CBT in about eight intensive weeks, and he might then ease his way back into surgery. He had followed the postings and knew what was available. Even with the needed re-training, he could soon return to one of the major London hospitals. Maybe Roger was right. The life he had been only considering was possible. **

**Outside the prying eyes of Port Wenn, he and Louisa could take their time to sort things out. She had a post teaching at a good school, so there was no worry that she find a job. Maybe she was as fed up with Port Wenn as he was and happily rid of the village. London offered many things to an intelligent, interesting woman like Louisa. He often wondered what kept her in Port Wenn. She did not have the brittle veneer of London women, but she was every bit as smart as they were. And beautiful, so very beautiful. My God, he missed her!**

**Driving to Plymouth the next day, he thought to give George Baynes a chance to help him. If he was not comfortable with Harriett's American, he would let it be known and work out his own way to leave Port Wenn. Clearly, this Baynes was not what he needed, and he could pursue Roger's suggestion of treatment in London. He pointedly consulted his watch before the psychologist continued:**

"**Please calm down Dr. Ellingham. You are as familiar with the Freudian theories as I am. We have to examine your childhood if you are to finally cope with your problems. CBT will treat the phobia, but it will not help with your underlying depression and anger. You want to return to surgery, and I can help you. Are you willing to do what it takes?"**

"**No, I don't wish to talk about my parents. I may be slightly depressed because of my condition, and I am only angry because you have wasted my time rather than proceed with a course of treatment. I'll pay you for your time today and get on with it. Send the bill to this address," Martin commanded, as he extended a business card.**

"**There will be no fee for my time, Dr. Ellingham. You do not value the advice I have given you, so let me give you a little more free advice. Harriett saw in you a very hurt, depressed and lonely man who is too stubborn to do anything about it. In my brief conversation with you, I understand your problems. **

"**I believe it was your countryman, Shakespeare, who paraphrased the Bible by writing 'Pride goeth before the fall.' You may foolishly imagine that you need not address the underlying issues causing the haemophobia and other problems in your life. That level of arrogance has left you unfulfilled and alone in a village that you hate.**

"**As you return to that village today, please ask yourself if you want to be miserable for the next thirty to forty years. Or do you want a life in which people will respect you professionally and you will be satisfied personally. Now, please leave Dr. Ellingham. I have a waiting room filled with patients who – unlike you – value my time and advice."**

**So stunned was he by this bloody American's brusque manner that Martin turned on his heel and left the office. Head down and barely containing his anger, he hurried to the car park where he clicked open his car and fell into the seat. With his eyes closed and hands pressing the wheel, he laboured to normalize his breathing. **

**Slowly, equilibrium was restored. But his eyes remained closed as his left hand slipped to the seat next to him, imagining Louisa was there with him. Returning from dinner with the Parsons in Truro, he and Louisa had said little as a John Tavener piece played on the CD. Few cars were on the road, and his hand would fall from the wheel to rest on her thigh, caress her arm, stroke her face. How she shivered at his touch. How he marveled at the feel of her. **

**That was what he missed most and now could only remember. Her hand sliding into his with a brief tightening of her fingers to reassure him. Her hair grazing his cheek as she examined the tiny pieces of the clock he was restoring. Aroused by her eyes meeting his as they walked toward each other. Feeling the warmth radiating from her body as he woke next to her in the morning. This feeling, this pleasure of Louisa was not a sexual craving, it was a primal craving. It was a craving he had never realized until Louisa. Being in accord with another human, so unknown to him for so many years, was what he lost. What he tried to forget as he opened his eyes, but knew was only forestalled. **

**Then he methodically punched into his sat/nav the address of Augusta Ada Lovelace School in Turnham Green.  
**

**Continued . . . **


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19  
**

**Mapping**

**The route to London was clearly displayed for Martin on the Sat/Nav. So very simple. Leave the car park, make his way to the A38, then the M5, on to the M4 for about half the journey, turning finally onto the A316. This would take him into Chiswick and then Turnham Green, ending at Louisa's school. How many hours? Certainly under five, even with a stop for petrol. **

**He could see her as classes ended for the day. She may tarry a bit; she always had in Port Wenn. One more child to reassure, a parent to meet, another teacher with a question. Louisa did not leave school easily. She lingered until satisfied that there was nothing more to be done for the day. Finally packing her case with work for the evening. Never stop being the teacher, the head teacher. Teaching was at her core, and he came slowly to that understanding. **

"**Don't worry with the markings tonight, Louisa. Leave it for tomorrow. Port Wenn Primary will carry on if they aren't finished."**

"**Martin, this is a difficult part of the curriculum, and the Year 6 students are eager to know how they managed the test. I'm eager to know. Merryn and I have worked very hard with them. Read a journal, watch a bit of telly, work on your bloody big clock. I'll do the markings, and you do as you please. This is how evenings will be when we're married. We can't snog every night, can we."**

**Certainly Louisa was right. Work did not end when she left the school, just as his day continued when the surgery closed. It was taking some getting used to. This having another person with him at night. Although often interrupted by patients, he tried to follow a routine: close the surgery; catch up on patient notes; return calls and emails; prepare dinner, dine, wash up; half hour of calisthenics learned at boarding school; shower, dress in pyjamas; read or tinker with a clock; in bed by half ten, ready to begin again at half six the next morning. **

**Louisa had no such routine. She would arrive at surgery in what she called "the village window of 15 minutes." He soon learned that she could not be relied upon to be at his kitchen table as scheduled. Even if she left her cottage at the right time for the five minute walk to his home, there was a good chance someone would way lay her. She would rush into the kitchen, breathlessly place an apologetic kiss on his cheek and mumble the name of the person who delayed her. ****He tried to be tolerant and would stop himself from commenting on the reduced temperature of the soup or the need to reheat the potatoes.**

"**Well, that's not bad really, Martin. Dinner needn't be at a set time," she goaded him. "Sometimes I have cheese, biscuits and a glass of wine at night. It could be anywhere between six and nine depending on what I'm doing." She looked archly at him, anticipating his response.**

**"That is appalling, Louisa. You need vegetables and a lean protein at night. And the wine will only make you sleepy."**

"**Wine makes you sleepy, not me. In fact, could you fetch a glass for me. It will help with the markings. Thank you very much," she cooed, whilst prodding him on the leg with her unshod foot. **

**A small smile could not be resisted as he poured a modest glass of red wine for her. If she had to drink, at least red wine had health benefits. This simple thing of bringing her a glass of wine made him feel very needed. It wasn't a chore doing things for Louisa. It was a joy. He liked taking care of her. It had been many years since he had taken care of anyone. **

**He and Montgomery did not have that sort of relationship. They were very independent and fended for themselves. He would make breakfast for Edith, but never thought that was taking care of her. It was more that he had to eat, and she happened to be there with him. During summers at Joan's farm, he had reluctantly minded the pesky chickens. But it was taking care of his aunt and uncle that he liked most. **

**After supper on the farm, Auntie Joan and Uncle Phil would carry their mugs of tea to the small gazebo overlooking the sheep meadow. From the age of seven, he would bring to them the pudding he helped Joan prepare. He carefully trudged across the yard bearing the fragrant apple jumble or custard treacle. They would beam their appreciation as he presented his humble offering. Then he would rush back to the kitchen for his own mug and plate. The three would tuck into the sweet and pronounce it delicious. **

"**Marty," Uncle Phil might say, "it's right good of you to take care of us. We've had a long day, and that's a nice treat you've given us." **

**Aunt Joan would smile kindly but remark: "Now don't take your uncle to mean that the chickens won't need feeding or the beds will weed themselves." **

**Even that made him feel good. Aunt Joan needed him and was glad for his help. That same feeling returned when he realized Louisa needed him. It was a feeling long suppressed as no one, apart from his patients, needed him. But as Robert Southwood often reminded his registrars, "You aren't the only doctor in the world," so even patients did not truly need him.**

**Now Louisa no longer needed him – really no longer wanted him. He could never take care of her again. The night he proposed, she tearfully told him how difficult it was for her to depend on anyone. She had been disappointed far too many times. She had learned to care for herself, to rely only on herself. His bringing her a warm flannel to wipe her face was a bit too much for her and brought forth more tears. Martin needn't be this kind to her. She could manage.**

**Clasping her chin to make their eyes meet, he assured Louisa that she could depend on him, that he would not disappoint her. This became the basis for her allowing his care. His first few gestures were difficult for her to accept: preparing beans on toast, which she loved and he abhorred; drawing a hot bath for her at the loss of his nightly shower; listening without comment to her recitation of the minor injustices visited on her by the school's Board of Governors. Slowly her trust developed in him. Now it was gone. He was only another disappointment to Louisa.**

**How dare he think she would welcome him back into her life by traveling to London. Going after her as Aunt Joan and half the village thought he should. Bring her back home to Port Wenn. But was that what she wanted? Was that what he wanted? What could he offer her? A failed surgeon, an unappreciated GP dismissed by his patients as a grumpy tosser. He had to be more than that to win her back. He had to get his life in order. **

**Forget this irksome Baynes and find a proper British doctor to free him from the phobia entangling his mind and trapping him in Port Wenn. The only practical advice the psychologist offered was the thought of performing robotic rather than open surgeries. Much less blood was produced, and in most cases he would not even touch the patient. A few incisions were made, often by a registrar, and the surgeon worked at a console away from the operating table. Not only would there be less gore, but he would be far enough from the table not to smell it. **

**Of course, Martin assured the annoying American, he was very familiar with robotic surgery. Five years ago NHS hospitals were using laparoscopic methods primarily for prostate, bladder, and rectal cancer surgeries. They had eased into procedures for some head and neck cancers and were beginning to train doctors for cardiovascular surgeries. Baynes said that Harriett's husband would soon undertake training in the States on robotic-assisted aortic valve replacement and coronary artery bypass. This was worth investigating. **

**Since Louisa left, it was the smell of blood more than the sight of it which triggered his panic attacks. Perhaps the on-line course and his efforts at de-sensitizing himself to the sight of blood were effective. Heartened by this thought, he might work out a plan to return to surgery – robotic or open. If only sorting out his life were as easy as punching addresses into the sat/nav and having a clear path to follow. He had allowed too many false starts to occur. He must devise a precise course if he were to care for Louisa once more.**

**Turning left onto Derriford Road would take Martin Ellingham safely back to his miserable life in Port Wenn. Taking the right turn onto Davy Road would lead him to London, Louisa and the fearful reawakening of wounds still fresh. What was it George Baynes said to him: Redemption lies in remembrance. You must remember before you can heal."**

**Continued . . . **


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20  
**

**Pretence**

**On that abysmal January day, and on every day to follow, Louisa Glasson would have welcomed Martin Ellingham as her rescuer. If nothing more, it would bring an end to her ill-considered and poorly-planned life in the city. She had made yet another mistake, even more momentous than becoming pregnant. In what she hoped was a lapse of judgement caused by her hormonal-addled mind, Louisa had accepted the post at Augusta Ada Lovelace School with little consideration for the consequences. **

**During her visit to Port Wenn, Holly had mentioned only the desirable aspects of her school: brilliant students, abundant resources and excellent staff. Nothing was said about the intensity of the school and the London mothers who were hell-bent on pushing their daughters toward top range careers and wealthy husbands. Addie girls must become independent and successful on their own, but only as a means of attracting the right sort of man.**

**As Louisa thought more of this paradox, she realized that Liliana Orestes had tried to gently warn her of the school's nature when they first met. It was created by striving parents who had imbued in their children the need to succeed at any cost. Holly was originally to be the Director of Studies and Dr. Orestes the Head of School. She had been lured to London from St. Gertrude's in Warwickshire with the promise of better medical care for her mild Multiple Sclerosis. **

**Days before the school was to open, her disease struck savagely and Liliana was forced to relinquish her post, making Holly the Head of School. Now with her MS in remission, she was functioning well as Director of Studies and not interfering with Holly's management of the school. **

**Louisa was a bit worried by today's summons to Liliana's office. She had been teaching for only three weeks and could think of no problems with her classes. Membership in the Junior Maths Society had increased as well. If she were sacked, it would be disastrous. **

**She would have to find a teaching post in a less-expensive place. Ideally, Cornwall. The term had only begun, but some school may yet need a teacher. The bedsit would be another matter. She had a six month let, and Babs would be furious with her. Or should she look for another post in London? Not mention Holly's school, but say she moved to the city unexpectedly. The school near India's shelter seemed a bit dodgy and might need a teacher. She could survive anything until end of term. **

**Inhaling deeply, Louisa knocked on the polished wood door and heard an accented "enter please." Liliana's elegant bearing from her days as a ballerina and no-nonsense manner were a bit intimidating. But now Louisa noticed her trembling right hand and stiff gait as she watered plants on the window ledge. This was not one of Liliana's good days, and she felt bad adding to her discomfort. **

"**Ms. Glasson, thank you for coming. Let me finish with the ferns, and I'll be with you. Join me in a cup of tea, will you? It's not that nasty bilge Queen Holly drinks, but a good Darjeeling from Mr. Qureshi. Please pour one for me if you will. No sugar, no milk. That's an English affectation. Tea needs neither."**

**Relieved that Liliana seemed not displeased with her, Louisa lifted the sturdy brown teapot and filled two delicate cups with the pungent brew. She placed one cup on the brass desk tray and cradled the second, awaiting Liliana's attention.**

**Finally, the older woman made her way to the desk, gripping first the bookcase and then a chair to steady herself. This pained Louisa, and she turned away before taking a chair. **

"**Do look, my dear. I've made it with no stumbles. It's the rain that bothers my walking more than the MS." Having only a taste of tea, Liliana came to the matter at hand: "I'm afraid we've had a complaint about the Junior Maths Society."**

"**Oh no, what is it," Louisa asked with concern. "We've had only the three meetings. The girls were enthusiastic. Nine came to the first meeting, and by the third there were 28. Holly was pleased with the number of students participating." Was she to be sacked over maths, a subject she had taught for years?**

**The Director of Studies then uttered one word: "Biscuits." Head tilted and smile suppressed, she ****inquired: "Did you provide biscuits at the meetings?"**

**Louisa quickly thought how to explain: "Yes, but there's a bit more to it, you see. I was told refreshments were to be offered during the meeting. The kitchen aide brought in a pot of green tea, and the girls were a bit disappointed. In fact, they refused to drink it and said they were sick of the stuff. I had a packet of biscuits in my bag and offered those to make up for the tea. Ariel Washburn, the ginger haired girl from Year 7, told me teachers could order any sort of tea they wished. Biscuits were expected at the meetings, but the school would not supply them.**

"**T****he next week I asked for ordinary PG Tips tea and brought chocolate digestives. I did the same for yesterday's meeting. I must say the girls gobbled them quickly. Other than that, the students were attentive, and we completed the suggested material. Five students from Year 8 came at the end of Tuesday's meeting and asked if they might join. It seemed I was doing well with it all."**

"**Y****es, Louisa, there's no question you're helping our maths geniuses. However, it seems one of the students told her father's new wife about your biscuits. It was brought up in an argument between the girl's mother and the wife. As you know, the parents are quite concerned about the physical conditioning of students and do not permit sweets at the school. The mother has threatened to tell the other mums about the biscuits if we do not stop what she ridiculously described as 'an outrage.' As far as I'm concerned these poor children should be allowed occasional sweets, but that is the school's rule. Please, no more biscuits at the Junior Maths Society."**

**Louisa was astonished. Biscuits. She was being reprimanded for giving children biscuits! At Port Wenn Primary the parents were delighted if students were offered a sweet or two. There was little money for treats, and if Louisa chose to distribute them, it was fine by them. What was wrong with these people in London? Were girls barely into puberty being forced to swill green tea out of fear that no man would marry them? **

**Louisa shook her head and spluttered: "Certainly, Liliana, no more biscuits. So terribly sorry that I caused this problem. I only thought …."**

"**Of course****," Liliana interrupted, "you were acting normally and only out of consideration for your charges. Think nothing more of it. Now, please tell me how you are getting on, your little flat, that sort of thing." **

**For the next while, Louisa tried to merrily describe her new life in London as her mind sorted out ways to untangle herself from the city and return to Port Wenn. Recalling a weekend encounter with her neighbour's three Yorkies had the desired effect on Liliana. She laughed deeply as Louisa described the antics of the yapping dogs owned by Gareth and Didier. The two aged men were the senior tenants in the building, giving them and their dogs free rein of the place. **

**A day after her arrival, Didier and Gareth came to her door bearing a pot of flowering jasmine, grown in what they called their illegal conservatory. Louisa wondered at the small glass structure tucked in the side courtyard and crowded with greenery. In high dudgeon, Gareth described the local Council's order to remove it eight years ago. The conservatory remained, despite the continuing efforts of one Barbara Bosley Bournham to enforce the edict on behalf of the landlord.**

**The two had lived at 1128 Hewlett Road for nearly 30 years and had never met or even seen the mysterious building owner. Their rental cheques were sent to a postal box in central London and endorsed with only the single name: "Monique." Over the years, the intrigue surrounding the owner grew, aided by the gossip generated at Didier's café near the tube station. **

**Louisa's new neighbours were quite keen to provide details about the building's other occupants. In the last few years, Babs let the flats to Harley Street nurses and junior Bond Street administrators in an effort to expand her real estate business among their wealthy bosses. "If a nurse refers a consultant to the estate agent," Gareth leaned in to confide, "a package from Harod's soon appears at her door. Our Miss Bosley Bournham is making a fortune from those girls and rewarding them for it."**

"**Yes, it may be good for the dreadful Babs," said a woeful Didier, "but we miss the actors and artists. There was more fun, more _joie de vivre _in the building. We shall retire soon and go to our cottage in France. London has become boring. It is too much like America. Work and money. Nothing more."**

"**Now, Didier, don't be rude," scolded Gareth. "Tell us about yourself, Louisa. You're not from London are you?"**

**By this time, the two had maneouvered their way into her bedsit and were perched on the blue and white chairs facing the small sofa she occupied. Louisa felt more captured than captivated by the men and had no wish to blather on despite the plant and their pleasant manner. Luck appeared when her mobile buzzed, and she hurriedly answered it. Isobel was ringing, concerned about her quick decision to leave Port Wenn. **

**With the smallest pout darkening her face, Louisa pointed to the phone and said: "So sorry, I must take this call." Their ten minutes of conversation with Louisa allowed Gareth and Didier to aim air kisses at both her cheeks before tiptoeing from the flat. She smiled goodnight and leaned against the blue door with relief before returning to Isobel. **

"**Is this Isobel a friend from Cornwall," asked Liliana as she filled Louisa's cup with tea. What had she been saying? Like her two neighbours, Louisa had been mindlessly nattering on and was a bit embarrassed for taking her superior's time. **

"**Yes, but I first met her at university, here in London. She lives in St. Austell now and had her first baby in November. 12th November. The day I was to . . . ."**

**And then she said no more as breath left her and tea sloshed from the cup onto her quivering hand. Before Liliana could notice, she managed to place her cup on the desk and stand. This movement restored a bit of equanimity, and she was able to thank the director and re-assure her there would be no more biscuits. Louisa exited the office so quickly, she only heard Liliana begin to say: "No need to hurry off. . . "**

**But there was a need. She could taste the vomit coursing up her throat and filling her mouth. She rushed along the corridor, lips firmly clasped, to the staff toilet where she brought forth the tea and remains of recent meals. Clammy and shaken, she slowly walked to her office, hoping not to meet anyone on the way. Once there, she eagerly drank from her water bottle and grasped the desk chair. **

**Louisa had forced herself not to think of Martin, Port Wenn and even the baby during school hours. At night her mind could do as it wanted, but she must stay in control during the day. The mention of Isobel's baby breached that resolve and memories of the wedding day overwhelmed her. Nausea followed as it had on so many nights in London. Morning sickness, she would think. I'm to have morning sickness not night sickness. Can't I do anything right?**

**Fleeing the building she encountered Mr. Qureshi at the front door, offering her an umbrella. "You have no brolly, Miss Glasson," said the school's porter. Take this for tonight. It's chilly as well. You must wrap that scarf tightly and wear gloves." Louisa did as he directed, feeling like one of the students waiting in queue.**

**As he held the door for her, Louisa saw the arriving Range Rovers, Audis and Mercedes driven by mothers fetching their daughters. Walking past them, she noticed more than ever the self-congratulatory faces of the women. "Look at me," their expressions said. "I'm pretty, smart, have a rich husband, children and a nice home in a city where I belong." Never one for envy, Louisa found her jealousy mount as she passed one after another of the women. They sheltered by their cars; she battered by the cold rain. **

**Louisa was startled from her despondency by the sound of a familiar voice. Through her wind-scattered hair, she squinted and saw a silver Lexus sedan with someone standing at the driver's door. "Louisa, over her, Louisa I'm over her." Closing her eyes against the sight, her first thought was to turn in the opposite direction, Instead, she walked toward the car, slipped on a wet stone and stumbled against a figure clad in a tan raincoat. Then she vomited once more. **

**To be continued . . . **


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Movement**

"**Oh my God, Louisa. That's fantastic," shrieked India. "You vomited on Babs!" **

**More than three weeks after the incident, Louisa now saw the humour, but she had been mortified at the time. "It wasn't all that bad, really. Only water and a bit of bile. But you would've thought I'd doused her with a caustic chemical. She went on and on about her bloody Burberry. Her raincoat's been cleaned and is no worse for it. She wouldn't let me pay for the cleaning. Apparently, I'm to have parents buy flats from her."**

"**That's what she tells everyone. I always suggest she ring Chester. He has the wealthy friends; I manage a family shelter!" **

**Louisa and India were working at a worn, stone-topped table in India's small, antiquated kitchen in Chiswick. The rest of the flat was comfortable enough, but the Cloverleys saw no need to re-do a kitchen for the cook. "Only problem is – I'm the cook," groused India. **

**On this cold February morning, the two were chopping vegetables for the cock-a-leekie soup to be served at supper later in the day. Louisa had hastily accepted India's invitation and offered to help with the meal - all to avoid another lonely Sunday in her cheerless bedsit.**

**India's three children were mucking about London with their father, leaving her to catch up on household chores before they returned at five. She was grateful for Louisa's help, but mostly for her company. Her new friend was bright, charming and made India laugh as they shared stories of the shelter and the school. **

"**Such different ends of the economic spectrum," Louisa noted, "but in the end, people are the same."**

**"Except for Babs," they nearly proclaimed in unison.**

**"Why was she at your school," India asked.**

**"It seems she has a new boyfriend whose two daughters are students. One's in my Year 8 class and the other's a few years older. The dad was delayed at court and sent Babs to fetch them. A barrister, I suppose. The girls are quite lovely, but they certainly got the wrong end of the stick. First their mother left them and now Babs. **

"**Although she did give me a lift to Ealing, which was very kind," Louisa acknowledged. "In my state, I'm not sure I could've managed the tube that night. Mr. Qureshi commandeers taxis for students, but who knows what that costs."**

**Adding carrots to the soup pot, India turned to Louisa: "What are you now – in your fourth month? You should be feeling better after the first trimester. No more morning sickness, right?"**

"**Well, the thing is, I never had morning sickness after leaving Port Wenn. In London, it was nausea in the evening. Do you think it's something to do with the change in weather?"**

"**More likely, the change in your life. Danny and I think you're very brave: Taking a teaching post in London, having a baby on your own. Have you given any thought to what they'll say at school when you begin to show? By March or April, people will notice, no matter what you wear."**

**Feeling more foolish than brave, Louisa wondered what Danny said about Martin. Was that why India was so kind to her? The men disliked each other, and Danny probably portrayed Martin as a callous social misfit, staring balefully after her as she walked about the village. **

**Louisa would set India straight about Martin, although she had revealed another detail of her poorly-considered move to London. She would have to tell Liliana and – with more difficulty – Holly about her pregnancy. They couldn't sack her for that alone, but the school leaders could easily find a way to be rid of her. **

**Taking a page from Gareth and Didier's conservatory rebellion, she continued to provide biscuits to the Junior Maths Society. It was an unspoken agreement and closely-held secret between her and the members of the group. In her mind it was the Secret Biscuit Society, similar to the Dare Club at Port Wenn Primary. This transgression would not be forgiven a second time. **

**Louisa stood and crossed her arms defensively, ready to offer a reasoned response: "Look, I didn't come to London because of my pregnancy. I was offered a good teaching post with an opportunity to advance my career. Even a term at a school like Addie will tick up my CV. Once Holly understands the baby will be born during summer, she'll have me back for autumn term. The students like me, and the mums call me 'the brilliant little thing from Cornwall.'" That sounded convincing to Louisa, but India looked less certain. **

"**But there will be a baby, Louisa. You'll be working, with a newborn and no one to help. I can pitch in and even find a baby minder for you, but they aren't inexpensive. It'll take your child benefit and more. Could the father help a bit with the costs," a question India posed often at Holyrood Refuge. **

"**The father's name is Martin," Louisa snapped and then immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. It's just that we left everything unsettled after the wedding day. I didn't speak to him until he phoned during the drive to London. I haven't told him about the baby and won't until the birth. He's very scientific and would consider it not a child but an easily-solved medical problem. He doesn't think like most people. He's practical. He's not emotional," she lied at the last. **

"**Oh, bollocks, Louisa. Mrs. Steel told me the doctor was quite mad about you. Everyone in the village knew it, eventually even Danny. It was only after you told him to get stuffed that people enlightened him about you and Martin. His enormous ego was shattered, of course. But Danny admitted he fancied you only as part and parcel of his redemption. Settle in Port Wenn with the old flame and refurbish holiday cottages for Londoners. **

"**He had gotten involved in a religious group whose members seek simplicity and the true meaning of life through humble work, spirituality, that sort of thing. Danny couldn't sustain it. He has too much ambition, even if he lacks the talent to realize it. After Chester, I recognize the fallibilities of men and understand Danny. Unfortunately, I've fallen quite in love with him, so more's the pity for me."**

**As she talked, Louisa watched India twist a Claddagh ring on her right hand. "Is that from Danny," she had to ask. Looking at the band with two hands holding a heart, India nodded: "Yes, it was his great-grandmother's who came from Belfast to Cornwall during the troubles. Danny gave it to me with a pledge that we would marry some day. I didn't want to take the ring, but it's important to him. **

"**It will be more than ten years until my last finishes school, and I'll be free of the Cloverleys. I don't want to keep Danny from having his own children by waiting for me. Can you imagine a more horrible, lonely life?"**

"**No, I can't," Louisa said softly as she slowly returned to her chair. "I feel the same about Martin. About myself as well. Never having children or a proper family. We had our problems, but when he proposed, everything changed. We got on well. Nothing he said bothered me. We were happy. Or I thought we were. Then on our wedding day, it all fell apart. Worse yet, he said I wouldn't make him happy. What could I do with that? His one comment was the end for me."**

"**Louisa, I may not have been the most brilliant student at St. Andrews, but I read enough philosophy to safely quote Aristotle: 'Happiness depends upon ourselves.' Reaching your full potential as a human being is how you attain happiness. Happiness is a goal, and we'll only know if it's been reached at the end of our lives. **

"**For Martin to say you wouldn't make him happy is nonsense. I suppose he felt satisfied in his surgical career, but more than work is needed for happiness. You thought you were happy as head teacher in a village you love. But you've just said you feel sorry for the both of you as you'll never have a true family."**

**Louisa was stunned into silence. India had gotten to the heart of the matter.  
**

"**Say something, Louisa. I go on sometimes, but you know Martin, I don't."**

**Shaking her head to clear it, Louisa spoke hesitantly: "Right. What you say makes sense. I don't like London and Martin hates Port Wenn. We are going to have a baby, but I'm afraid to tell him. We rushed into a marriage, not understanding each other. More importantly, not understanding ourselves. I thought Martin would bring me happiness by ending my loneliness and need for a family. I imagine he thought I'd do the same for him. But we were going about it in the wrong way. What a mess we've made of it all."**

**India leaned across the table, looking intently at Louisa: "Life becomes very messy, very quickly. But you can sort things out and make a go of it once more. It's terribly difficult, and children make it all the more so. You've an obligation to work through the mess and let the father – Martin – be part of the child's life."**

"**But, I don't think he wants to be a father," Louisa groaned as her head fell to her hands. **

"**You may be surprised," countered India. "Chester's no model of behaviour, but he knows our children need him." Laughing a bit, she continued: "He was bleary-eyed when he arrived this morning, but the three were still excited to see him. He guzzled two cups of coffee before they got out the door and likely still has a raging hangover. But he's with them because he recognizes, even in his juvenile way, that children want their dad. **

"**It's down to you Louisa. You first have to understand what will make you happy with or without Martin. But you really should tell him about the baby very soon. Then you must begin talking to him, really talking so that you understand more about him than he dislikes Port Wenn. You must also think if you hate London or simply your life in the city without Martin.**

"**You'll meet my cousin, Helen, at supper tonight. Her husband's in the RAF, and they've lived in a dozen places during their marriage. Now he's in Afghanistan, and she's on her own with two children at the Northolt Base. She'll be the first to tell you it's the man you choose to marry, not where you live, that's important.**

"**I stupidly thought that Chester's money would make me happy. His shortcomings were very evident when we married. But I was one of those silly, arrogant women who thought he'd change. Divorce courts are filled with my sort. Now, I'm in love with a man I never would've considered at age 22. Danny may not have been right for you, Louisa, but he suits me. We share our crusading ways around housing and the like. In the end, we'll be a barmy, old couple milling about Trafalgar Square with placards. But we'll be together and happy in it all."**

**Smiling at the thought of the two aged protesters, Louisa envied India for sorting out her life. She must do the same. First she would consider what she wanted for herself and the baby. Then Martin. She must speak with him very soon.  
**

**Perhaps reacting to her emotional state, Louisa felt for the first time a pronounced jolt in her uterous. Her hands fluttered toward her stomach as she gasped in wonder: "It's moved. The baby's moved." **

"**Oh, that's lovely," India exclaimed as she moved to embrace Louisa.**

**Louisa had not felt such a comforting touch since the morning of her wedding. Martin had kissed her lightly, then trailed his fingers along her jawline as their eyes met: "Half four is it? At St. Margaret's. Until then," he murmured in his heart-melting timbre. With her good bye smile still lightening her face, she hurried through the dawn-washed village to her cottage. She was finally secure in Martin's love. **

**The full misery of the months since that day now enveloped Louisa. Tears flowed as India's arms enfolded her. "I've made such a mess of it all. It's all too real, India. This baby, not having Martin," she wailed. **

**How many times had India held stubborn, confused women, their wombs swollen with babies they swore the fathers did not want? Nearly as many times as she saw fathers first hesitate, then eagerly accept their babies. She knew Martin Ellingham could do the same. Now, Louisa must give him the chance to do so. **

**Continued. . . .**

**May all of my kind readers and reviewers have the peace and joy of the Christmas season in your heart and homes now and throughout the New Year.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22  
**

**Revival**

**Late March in Cornwall seduces the senses: the sight of hillsides renewing their green colour; the smell of manured earth pushing out the first plants; the returned warmth of sun touching the body; the sound of fecund sheep bleating in the fields; the tart taste of bilberries plucked from hedgerows. Even in his present state, Martin Ellingham was not immune to the pleasures of Spring. As he drove between Port Wenn and St. Columb on this Sunday morning, he allowed himself some measure of enjoyment brought by the new season.**

**He had declined so many invitations from Chris Parsons these last five months, that his old friend insisted they meet for lunch today. The Parsons family would be in Newquay for the tenth birthday party of Michelle's niece, and Chris begged Martin to spare him the family event. **

"**Look, Mart, I never ask you for anything. Not since med school, anyway. I can't bear seeing Michelle's sister after the Christmas fiasco. You'll like the Ring O'Bells. They do a good broiled fish, and it's quite hygienic. You can't resist those standards, now can you?"**

**Parsons was right. He had ignored him, ignored most people, in fact, as he worked single-mindedly to overcome his haemophobia. Progress was slower than he wanted but preferable to the alternatives presented. First Harriett Jaffe and then that insufferable American had insisted he would never conquer the phobia without addressing his childhood issues. If he had learned nothing else in his medical career, it was alternative treatments can be found.**

**The psychologist and psychiatrist had their theories of how to treat the phobia. He devised his own. Results were becoming evident. Only yesterday, he had cared for an early-season surfer who had been tossed onto rocks by a rare closeout wave. A sharp crag had sliced through the man's thick, yellow wet suit, leaving a bloody gash in his leg. Without a hint of nausea, Martin was able to clean and stitch up the wound. **

**His last act this morning had been to remove the bandage and palpitate the area for signs of infection. Watery blood oozed forth, but he had no reaction as he applied a fresh dressing. His spirit rose. Perhaps surgery was in the offing.**

**Leaving Port Wenn, a few people waved to him. Mostly tourists he suspected. Villagers continued to blame him for the loss of their head teacher and were even less friendly and more ungrateful. Never mind. He intended to talk to Parsons today about a surgical posting, at best, or a transfer within the PCT, at worst. Port Wenn held nothing for him, and his need to be there had ended with Louisa's departure. **

**Those who had heard from Louisa Glasson went out of their way to tell him of her wonderful new life in London. School was brilliant; her flat charming, and friends bountiful. Bert Large reminded him daily that Port Wenn was the poorer for her departure. Teachers loathed the new headmaster and blamed Martin for every wrong that befell them and the school. Even Auntie Joan – his very own aunt – hurried to show him the postcard she received from Louisa. The card pictured the Greenwich Horology Museum, which she visited with the Junior Maths Society and pronounced "fantastic."**

"**Fantastic!" That was not a word Louisa had used. It was a London word. Clearly, she had easily acclimated to city life and would now find Port Wenn as wanting as he did. He was not surprised. She was an intelligent woman with good teaching skills and a personality that would endear her to students and parents. To men as well. Possible suitors had been few in the village, and he worried that was the only reason she even noticed him. London offered hundreds, no thousands, of men of every stripe who would be attracted to Louisa. **

**To his dismay, her horrid friend Holly had dropped the name Johnny Bamford at the concert. Martin shuddered recalling his former registrar who had divorced two wives during his tenure at St. Thomas's. He would be the sort of man to prey on Louisa. **

**Pauline Lamb smugly told him of her birthday note from Louisa in which she mentioned two neighbours, Gareth and Didier. The latter a Frenchman, no doubt, who could entice a naive Louisa with his romantic accent. Then there was the blasted, Danny Steel, who had taken her away to London. No matter how much Joan protested that he had a girlfriend – Lydia, was it – Martin did not trust the devious architect. **

**Then a month ago, there had been the wrenching, late-night phone call from Louisa, ****which ended in a row and her stinging final comment.**

**It was a sodden Sunday in February, and he had returned to surgery from the death bed of a farmer whose family came to Cornwall over 200 years ago. From the number of people crowding the thatch-roofed cottage, it seemed most of those relatives were in attendance and many had questions. He was finally able to sign the death certificate at half nine and was not back to surgery until ten. He'd had no dinner. Tea would have to do. Dozing over the hot drink, he was startled by his ringing mobile. **

"**Ellingham," he responded, louder than intended. **

"**Martin, sorry, it's me, Louisa," this in a determined tone. **

**Now he was enervated and struggled to remain calm: "Are you okay, Louisa. No medical problems. Anything of the sort?" **

**He would never forgive himself if she had contracted an illness – hepatitis, a virulent strain of flu. London was teeming with filthy people and air-borne germs ready to strike down even the strongest. Or she may have suffered an accident. He thought quickly of which A&E was closest to Ealing, where Roger Fenn said her flat was located. If need be, he could prevail upon a med school mate to see her immediately. The St. Mary's directory was easily found on-line. It was his fault for letting her leave the safe environs of Port Wenn. What a mistake he had made. **

"**Not exactly, Martin. But I did want to chat with you if you have a moment."**

**Not sick. No accident. Good! Then he heard a click from her phone indicating she had another call.**

**"Oh, Martin, terribly sorry. Could you hold the line for a moment. I must take this call."**

**Before he could say anything, she was gone and he gratefully drank the tea, watching the second hand on his watch rotate around the dial three times. **

**But as the hand moved, his mood changed. Bloody hell, why had she phoned him, only to make him wait. It was probably the Frenchman ringing or someone like Bamford, calling to wish her good night as he had once done. Well, bugger all, he was not going to wait another second for her. **

**Yes, he had devised a plan for coping with the haemophobia, but not for the underlying issues of insecurity and distrust. His parents had taught him well his lack of worth to them and the world. His defence mechanisms were at the ready as Louisa returned to him. **

"**Martin, I am so sorry. I wanted to take that. It's late but I did have something to tell you. . ."**

**Oh God, Louisa was going to tell him she had met a man in London. Maybe only met, not yet intending to marry him. There was a chance if she had only met another man. If he were not so tired and agitated, he might have thought of a better way to forestall her announcement. He didn't want to hear what she was about to tell him. He had to think of a way to buy some time before he learned of this other man whose call she wanted to take.**

"**Look, Louisa, it's very late, and I've had a busy day. Why don't we talk later when I've had a chance to. . . " **

**To do what, he thought? What he had not done since November: sort out a way to tell Louisa that he loved her, still wanted to marry her. How hard he had worked to overcome the phobia. How he could join her in London. Even if he couldn't return to surgery immediately, he could do research, teach. Anything to be with her once again. Anything. **

"**No, Martin. It's taken me so long to summon the courage to tell you that I must do it now. It can't wait. It's important," she said in an unusually-forceful manner. **

**Weary, jealous and mostly overwhelmed by an intense fear of losing Louisa, he responded in a regrettable manner. **

"**If it were so important to you, why did you make me wait whilst you chatted with your friend. Can't he go to sleep without hearing your voice. That's what you once told me, Louisa." **

"**Martin, what are you talking about," annoyance made her voice shrill. **

"**Look, Louisa, if you've met someone else, just say it. I've really no interest in hearing you go on about him. I've had a long day and tomorrow will be busy. Tell me and let me get on to bed," spoken in what he hoped was a controlled tone. **

"**What a horrible thing to say, Martin," she thundered. "You think I've been having such a cracking time in London, do you? I can tell you that teaching terrified girls and putting up with their overbearing mothers leaves me no time for anything or anyone else. **

"**You haven't changed. You'll never change. I'll manage on my own. This is exactly what I expected from you. I've made such a mistake even phoning you!"**

"**Please, Louisa, I'm sorry. Please let's talk. Louisa, are you there? Louisa? I've missed you so much," he said into his mobile with no one at the other end. **

**Continued . . . .**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23  
**

**Control**

**Since Louisa's phone call last month, Martin had tried to work out a way to talk with her. Each idea was dismissed out of fear: fear of rejection, fear of his need for her, fear that he would lose control, eroding his efforts to conquer his phobia.**

**He deluded himself into thinking that if he had only driven to London in January, all would be sorted out. But then, like now, he was afraid. With Louisa in London, there was the hope of her. He could do nothing to anger her. Strangely, her phone call had reassured him: she had no time for anyone else. Those words held the promise that he could be with her again. **

**With his phobia resolved, he might find a post in London. No longer would he be the pathetic surgeon, afraid of blood, forced into a GP's role. Now he would be in control, a respected surgeon, worthy of Louisa's love. Parsons would search out a new post for him, somewhere in the city. He'd hand over the Port Wenn practise and be in London before the school term ended. Then he would contact Louisa and explain why he was so frightened on their wedding day. Why he loved her still and wanted to marry her. His self-control and self-respect would be back, and he could once again have Louisa. It was all possible. **

**With this thought he arrived at the Ring O'Bells ten minutes early. Enough time to have a wander along Bank Street and stretch his legs. The air smelled fresh and his grey wool suit protected him from the cool wind stirring the budding trees.**

**Leaving the car park, he saw Chris Parsons waving from the restaurant doorway. The narrow façade of the brightly-painted, Tudor building concerned him, but he trusted Chris in the realm of cuisine. His portly body certainly showed an appreciation of food and drink. Although Martin would not risk angering him by again suggesting he shift weight. He needed Parsons. **

"**Mart," boomed Chris as he tried to embrace his old friend, but settled for a firm handshake, "How've you been mate?" **

"**Fine. You're unusually early. I planned to have a look around the square. Care to join me?" **

"**I'd prefer a pint, but whatever." **

**The two walked from the restaurant toward the square and the large Church of St. Columb Major which provided the village its name. As they strolled, Parsons recalled the events of Christmas which made him vow not to spend even a minute with his wife and her sisters under the same roof. **

"**My brothers and I get on well. We watch the football matches, drink a bit too much, have a jolly good time. With Michelle and her sisters, it's a palace intrigue. You're lucky Louisa has no family. You'll have none of that."**

"**No, of course not," Martin muttered, not understanding or caring about the ridiculous family drama being described. **

"**Have you heard from her," Chris tried to sound nonchalant.**

"**Louisa? No. Well, not exactly. She phoned me recently, but the call was a bit jumbled," he hedged. "She seems well. Which is good. I worry about her in London." **

**Taking what he heard from various sources, Martin had pieced together a limited portrayal of Louisa's life in London. **

"**She has a bedsit in Ealing. Adequate I'd say. It's close to the tube station, so that she's safe walking to and fro. The school's quite demanding, it seems. In addition to teaching Years 7 and 8, she mentors the Junior Maths Society. She's been able to get around London. Museums, that sort of thing. She has a number of friends there – and neighbours. Busy, but getting on well."**

**The two turned back toward the Ring O'Bells as Martin continued with his imagined version of Louisa's life. Chris waited until they had settled in before saying more.**

**Touching his glass of Sharp's Coaster against Martin's tumbler of water, Chris began: "For the last few years Michelle's been teaching music two days a week at Truro High School. It has a well-regarded Sixth Form, and the girls are taken into good universities. We plan to send Julia and Gillian there after primary school."**

**Martin nodded approvingly, but with little interest. If this were the price of a new posting, he could be patient. **

"**Michelle may have mentioned this to Louisa when we had dinner. At any rate, Louisa rang Michelle last week and asked if there were any openings for the autumn term." Chris paused, unsure of Martin's reaction, but his demeanor did not change. **

"**It seems that **** Louisa's quite unhappy at her current school. The students are fine, but she doesn't like the parents or the way in which the school's managed. She doesn't like London either. She has a few friends, and they've been very kind. But she misses Cornwall and feels like a fish out of water."**

"**I see," was all Martin could utter as his mind skittered with excitement at the thought, even the thought, that Louisa would come back. There was a chance. No need for London or even another posting. He could endure Port Wenn if Louisa were only nearby. Now instead of a new posting, he was thinking of how to patch up things with Louisa and stay in Cornwall. With renewed hope he turned to Chris.**

"**Does the school have any openings? Is it possible Louisa will return?"**

"**Michelle wasn't certain, but she put her in touch with the head of school. They are quite pleased with Michelle, and her referral will go a long way.**

"**You should also know that the governor of a primary school near St. Austell contacted me about Louisa. She gave my name as a community reference from the PCT board. That school does have an opening for September, and Louisa has applied for it. She told the governor about a friend in St. Austell with a baby, and said they might share a home."**

**The appetizing halibut Martin was eating lost its appeal as he tried to process what Chris had said. Maybe it would be better if Louisa weren't living in Port Wenn. Too many memories of their failed relationship. Away from the village epicentre of gossip, they could start anew, forget the past. It would be ideal if she taught in Truro, a large enough city to retain some anonymity, but even St. Austell would do. Although there would be the matter of Louisa sharing a home with her friend and the baby Martin delivered. Why would she want that sort of arrangement? **

**Another thought occurred to him. If he had truly overcome the haemophobia, he need not return to London to resume his surgical career. Truro's Royal Cornwall was not a prestigious hospital, but its consultants had been trained in good medical schools, and their work was quite acceptable. As second best, he might find a GP post in St. Austell, a larger city than Truro and more likely to have an opening. **

**He would go with his first choice: "Chris, what if I told you I'm overcoming my blood thing. Is there a chance the Royal Cornwall would hire me?"**

"**Mart," Chris enthused, "are you certain? No more nausea, panic attacks? Have you done it mate?"**

"**Time will tell, but I've been working on de-sensitization techniques for the last several months, and they've been effective. Blood bothers me less and less. I've even looked in on operations at the Royal with no effect."**

"**That's fantastic, bloody fantastic. Another consultant from St. Mary's in Truro. Butler, Woods, Cherifi, Montgomery, Pitts and now Ellingham!" **

"**God,' Martin's voice was etched with disdain, "Adrian Pitts. Although I did watch him do a transjugular shunt last week, and he's become quite skilled. Fairly flawless all around."**

**Without the second pint he was consuming, Chris might not have blurted: "Pitts is a piece of piss compared to Montgomery. What are you going to do about her?" **

"**Who's Montgomery," Martin queried. **

**Blast. Chris had hoped the fates would intervene, allowing Martin and Edith to stumble across each other at the Royal Cornwall. This was not to be, so he performed the task he had been avoiding for months. **

"**Um, Edith Montgomery as a matter of fact." Words gushed from Chris now that his long-held secret was revealed. "She's heading the Zeffren Fertility Clinic and giving the Royal Cornwall one day a week in OB and gynae. It's part of the women's health initiative. I thought you may have seen her at hospital. Guess not." **

"**You know that gynae's of no interest to me. Unless it's an emergency, I send my patients to Truro." **

**Parsons had anticipated an explosive reaction from Ellingham about Edith Montgomery. With his friend's fairly dismissive response, he was both relieved and puzzled. Maybe Robert Southwood and even Michelle had overstated Edith's relationship with Mart. Montgomery hadn't said a thing about Martin when they first talked in Truro, even knowing they were good friends. Nothing to it. Just as Chris had suspected 20 years ago. **

**Handled at the chief executive level, he congratulated himself. He had told Ellingham about Louisa and Montgomery; now he could enjoy the meal. But he relaxed too soon.**

"**Actually, Chris, it's an odd coincidence that Montgomery's working in Truro. I had a note from her mother only a few weeks ago. Edith's father recently published a memoir of his career in Parliament, and I wrote to him after reading it. He's quite ill, Parkinson's it seems, but I received the loveliest response from his wife. She didn't mention Edith but recalled my visits to their home during med school. It was all so long ago, wasn't it? Have you read the book?"**

**Laughing somewhat, Chris said: "I had no choice. Edith gave her dad's book to the Zeffren staff as well as the nurses and midwives at Royal Cornwall as Christmas presents. The next morning, her assistant was fishing books from rubbish bins in both places. We now have over 20 copies in the hospital library. **

**Meanwhile, the assistant dashed to Marks and Spencer and bought cashmere scarves for everyone. I heard Montgomery was irate, but she was never one for understanding what people wanted." **

"**That's true. Edith didn't think much of people. That's probably why we got on so well. We were focused on our studies and trying to best each other. People never mattered to either of us." **

**Fortified now by beer and lunch, Chris pressed on with the mystery of Ellingham and Montgomery. "So, Mart, why didn't I know about you and Edith? Was she your girlfriend," he carefully asked.**

"**Um, no. Well, I suppose so. Something of the sort." **

**The pink brightening Martin's face and the shift of his eyes were the only confirmation Chris needed that the two had some sort of relationship. He couldn't bear making Ellingham say more and only nodded.**

"**I wouldn't worry about Montgomery, Mart. She only has the one year contract with the Royal Cornwall and is returning to London in September. You aren't likely to see her in the next few months."**

"**Why would I care about Montgomery. That was long ago. Now I have Louisa."**

**Alright, then, Chris was puzzled once again. Ellingham had just said his only contact with Louisa was an awkward phone conversation. Now he has her again. What was he missing?**

"**So****,**** Mart, you and Louisa have sorted out your problems. Is that why she's coming back to Cornwall?"**

"**No, not exactly. I only meant that with my phobia fixed, I would be better able to work things out with Louisa. I'll have control over my life, and our relationship could resume. I could make her happy."**

"**But what about you? Wasn't that the vicar's question? Does she make you happy?"**

"**When I was mired in the haemophobia, nothing made me happy. But I'll soon be free of it and normal again. Louisa and I will be fine as soon as we sort things out," his voice reflected more confidence than he felt. **

"**Is that what your friend, the shrink, told you? Control the haemophobia and you'll be right as rain?"**

"**Not in so many words. She tossed in the usual nonsense about my childhood. They all do that, Chris. She and the American both said they could treat the phobia, but not get to the essence of my problems unless I was willing to do the work needed. I hate that 'do the work.' What does it even mean," Martin sneered.**

"**I've worked out a way to manage the phobia on my own. I'll ease into a more challenging sort of medicine, whether surgery or general practise. Either is fine with me as long as it doesn't involve the morons of Port Wenn."**

"**Mart, why do you complain so about your patients? People are the same no matter where you are or the medicine you practise. Weren't there time wasters and people who didn't follow your advice in London? Remember how wound up you'd get in med school if someone ignored the diagnoses you doled out on the tube? **

"**I'll help you find something, but don't expect to waltz into a surgical post without proving yourself. I can say the same about a general practise in Truro or St. Austell. The first sign of a problem, and they'll want you out. You were the only GP in Port Wenn, and the villagers had to put up with you."**

"**Put up with me!" Now Ellingham exploded. "They were bloody lucky to have me.** **The things _I_ had to put with up were absurd. Their stupidity never failed to confound me. Listen, really try for a surgical posting, Chris. I've have enough of general practise. Surgery is what I want. I must be in control once more."**

**Continued . . .**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24  
**

**Harbinger**

**Friday's meeting with Liliana Orestes was not as difficult as Louisa had feared. The director of studies listened silently as she told of her attempted marriage to Martin, subsequent escape to London and then finally, reluctantly, her pregnancy. **

**With narrowed eyes, Liliana focused on Louisa's middle: "Of course, my dear, it's become quite obvious, hasn't it. We were simply awaiting your announcement. What did Queen Holly have to say?"**

"**Um, well, it seems, Holly's been busier than usual. I haven't had a chance to chat with her. Perhaps you might mention it to her."**

"**Not very brave of you, Louisa. Of course, I can speak with her. But it's really down to you, isn't it. We've had pregnant teachers at Addie. Nothing unusual there. Is everything going well ? You look quite healthy and can finish the summer term, I should think. Do talk to Holly on Monday. She likes to know these things."**

**Of course, Liliana was right. She would have to meet with the head of school. The difference between her fifth and sixth month of pregnancy was significant. No longer could she conceal her condition with long, dark cardis and flowing, black trousers. April was approaching and lighter clothes would be needed. But only buying support bands, bras and pants at Mothercare was costly. Tomorrow she would search through India's old maternity clothes for outfits to see her through July. Why buy new when she would need them only once?**

**Walking back to her office, Louisa waved good bye to excited students released to the freedom of half-term. Anne Davies, the Latin teacher whose desk adjoined hers, eagerly greeted her. "Have you heard the news about Liliana?" **

"**Oh, no, she's not had a relapse! I've just left her, and she seems fine."**

"**She is – fine, I mean. It's only that she's leaving Addie. Holly apparently had a huge row with her, and now she's taken a post at St. Veronica's. My friend teaches Greek at the school and said the head is turning cartwheels. She's that thrilled to have Liliana. Can you imagine stealing her from under Holly's nose? The parents will be furious when they learn of it. **

"**Mr. Qureshi said a special board meeting's been called for tomorrow to make the announcement. I wonder if Holly will survive. You know if it were down to the two of them, the board would want Liliana. She has the credentials and experience that Holly lacks. Tarquinius was kinder to Lucretia than the board will be to Holly." **

**Louisa slowly sank into her chair at yet another disappointment. Only this morning, the assistant head of Truro High School informed her that another teacher had been hired for year 9 maths. "Deficient in secondary school experience" was his blunt assessment. Softened by "you are otherwise an excellent candidate." Michelle Parsons rang during lunchtime to console her, and she forced herself not to cry. Louisa was less upset about missing the post than Michelle's prattling on as if Martin and she were still a couple.**

"**Oh, Louisa, I've just heard. What a pity. It would've brought you back to Cornwall and Martin, but that might not be needed. Chris said that he's sorting out the blood problem and may soon return to surgery. Perhaps London. If so, I should think he'd want you to stay on at your school. This might be good for the both of you. A fresh start in a new place. Martin seems impatient to leave the village, so this might be for the best, wouldn't you say?"**

"**Yes, of course. For the best." Louisa was a bit unnerved, having no idea of Martin's plan to resume surgery or return to London. Did he somehow think she wanted that? Would welcome him back with open arms? Forget that he didn't want to marry her? Ignored her these last few months – first in Port Wenn and now in London. **

**His rudeness during their phone call still rankled Louisa. India and her cousin, Helen, had carefully rehearsed the call with her. They playing Louisa's part and she taking Martin's. The worst scenario they could devise was not as bad as the reality of it all. Clearly, he had lost interest in her these last three months. The baby, finding a post in Cornwall and making a living were down to her. **

**She still held hope for the primary school in St. Austell. Louisa had stayed with Isobel and her daughter, Grace, when she returned to Cornwall for the two interviews. If she were hired for the local school, Isobel suggested that they share her small cottage and a baby minder. Grandmother Frances was not keen on having Grace each day, and Isobel's budget was stretched with the cost of child care. For the first year, the baby could be in the second bedroom with Louisa, making it convenient for nursing. Perhaps the two mums might find a larger house to let as the children grew. **

**No matter how much she pored over "What to Expect When You're Expecting," Louisa could not fathom being a mother. The most important thing was to fix a schedule for the baby. The book was emphatic about it. She'd return to work in a short six weeks, and the child must sleep and feed regularly. Louisa would be away for eight hours each day, and a well-scheduled baby was essential.**

**Her last antenatal exam showed the pregnancy was proceeding well, and no postpartum issues seemed likely. As the nurse finished the ultrasound, she asked if Louisa wished to know the baby's gender. Before she could decide, the woman offered to write the information on the sonogram and seal it in an envelope. She and the father could have a nice meal or meet with their families and open the envelope together. Make a bit of an occasion of it. Many parents did this. **

**Louisa shook her head. "No. I don't think so. I'd like to be surprised. We'd like to be surprised." Obviously, Martin hadn't accompanied her to the four clinic appointments, but she easily explained that he was "quite busy." The nurse knew she wasn't married, but that was not unusual in London. **

**What was unusual was her reluctance to contact Martin yet again. She remained upset at his reaction to her last call - accusing her of talking to another man, when she only wanted to speak with her father. Calls from prisoners were permitted only on Sundays, and Dad had waited in a long queue for their three minute conversation. Neither wanted to ring off**

**In a weak moment, she had written to her parents about the baby. Her father was thrilled, as expected, and assured her everything would be fine. He'd see to it. For once, Terry Glasson made her feel as if he would take care of her. It was a fantasy, of course, but even a fantasy was reassuring. Her mother had not responded. Nothing unusual there. **

**Finally leaving the school, Louisa made her way through the Friday afternoon crowds, who – unlike her – were looking forward to the weekend. She tried to create some sort of life in London, but found it difficult. The other teachers were either quite young and spent their weekends pursuing husbands or older and had family duties. Holly invited her to a dinner party that was so horrid she pretended a migraine and escaped before coffee. On the other hand, Liliana and Vincent offered her a bed following an evening of music with their friends. She so enjoyed herself and was the last to leave. **

**India, dear India, tried to see Louisa each weekend. Last Saturday, Chester took the children to a horse fair, whilst she helped India fold and put away a mound of washing. How did she manage the children's school work, meals and activities as well? Never mind the cleaning and shopping. **

**She stayed on for supper and the children's return, each wanting India's attention. Louisa watched her friend prepare a full meal of chicken, rice, veg and pudding, as she cleaned about the kitchen and settled squabbles among the three siblings. Could she ever do all of this? Fortunately, she'd have only the one child, and it would be much easier. She was certain of it. **

**As India settled the children with bedtime books and ordered Louisa to elevate her feet, the phone rang. Louisa tried to ignore India's obvious conversation with Danny Steel, but was intrigued by their relationship. **

"**Yes, the day was good. Chester was prompt for once, and they enjoyed the fair. Yes, Louisa's still here. We've had a nice dinner." Then India laughed a bit. "Of course, I can cook. You know that. Really I must go. I'll speak to you later. Um, yes, me too."**

"**Danny?" Louisa raised her eyebrows. **

"**Um, yes. He's worked today. Busy as usual," she was somewhat dismissive.**

**Curiosity got the better of Louisa: "How do you manage with the children and Danny? When do you see him?"**

"**Actually, we see very little of each other," India brushed hair from her face. "My children aren't permitted to meet him, which is a shame, because I think they'd enjoy Danny. He likes children as well and would be good for them, particularly Tommy and Alexandra."**

**Pointing to an intricate structure the two children had created, India continued: "They love Legos, and I can see Danny in the thick of it with them. Playing with Legos led to his interest in architecture, but you knew that." This Louisa did not know, but nodded politely. "At Christmas, he gave me presents for them, but I only said they were from someone who helped at the shelter. The Cloverleys didn't suspect a thing."**

**Louisa worried constantly if Martin would want any sort of relationship with their child. Unlike Danny, he disliked children for the most part and was evasive when she broached the matter whilst engaged. Children were very important to her, but he didn't seem to understand. A child would ruin their life together and be a bother, he said. She thought he would change his mind. A fool's errand, Louisa now realised. **

**Later leaving the tube station at Ealing, she barely heard her mobile ring. "Louisa Glasson," she hurriedly answered against the din of London. **

"**Oh, Ms. Glasson, this is Clement Foster from Anglican Primary. The board's just concluded its meeting and, sorry to say, we're offering the post to an in-house candidate. Your CV was first rate, especially with the London school. You were quite impressive in the interview, and I wish we had a second opening. Thank you, again, for your interest."**

"**Yes, thank you as well Mr. Foster," the tremor in her voice barely contained. **

**Louisa dropped the mobile into her bag and stood in place, allowing herself to be buffeted about by others exiting the station. Nothing in Truro, nothing in St. Austell. Closing her eyes, she dreaded the thought of going to her bedsit and once again searching the postings. If she found nothing in Cornwall, she may be stuck at Addie for another year. **

**Continued . . . . **


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25  
**

**Intermezzo**

**As she had done on other bleak Friday nights, Louisa walked across the square to Didier's café. It was filled with commuters having a glass of wine or fetching takeaway, but Amir found a small table for her by the front window. **

"**Louisa, Louisa, you are here!" Didier bustled from the kitchen, took her hand and gallantly kissed it. "What would the little **_**maman**_** like for supper? I've some lovely prawns, beautiful chickens fresh from the farm, and you must have my **_**mousse au **__**chocolat**_**. We have both the white and dark together."**

"**It all sounds delicious, Didier. But tonight your mushroom soup and Salade Monique would not go amiss." **

"**Of course, **_**ma petite chou. **_**I only wish you could have a glass of wine. The French **_**mamans, **_**they don't care about these things. But English mums, no wine for you!"**

"**Amir, please, a **_**petite pan**_** and a **_**the Anglaise**_** for our Louisa," Didier commanded.**

**When Louisa needed coddling, she turned to Gareth and Didier. They were prepared with the latest gossip from "Hello" magazine or the neighbourhood shops and restaurants. Food from Didier's café often appeared at her door, always with a cheerful note: "This will make your Monday merry, a ****treat for Tuesday," and so forth. **

**She smiled as Amir arrived with a pot of tea, jug of milk and the bread she could not resist. Waiting for the tea to steep, Louisa watched through the window as men bought bouquets of flowers from the corner kiosk. Would Martin do this if they lived in London? He once said he never left hospital earlier than seven o'clock, whilst she was generally home by six. She would have an hour or so to prepare a meal – something simple for his tastes. **

**Perhaps she'd slip into one of those long, flowing dresses she coveted at Mothercare. Martin would hand her the flowers; she would kiss him in thanks. They would chat companionably over supper. He would be interested in her day, and she in his. As they had done those few times in Port Wenn, they'd make their way to the lounge. Martin would tease about her telly shows and she about his medical journals. Soon they would fall into each other's arms and hurry off to bed.**

**And then their baby began to cry.**

** "What's that ungodly noise," Martin demanded.****  
**

**"It's our baby. I've had a baby," she whispered in his ear. **

**"Why," he thundered and turned his back to her.**

**Louisa was roused from her troubling daydream by a wailing baby at the adjoining table. The father offered comfort to the child and an apology to Louisa: "Terribly sorry. He'll settle in a minute or so. Teething. The first few were easy, now it's a bit more difficult. My wife should be here shortly. It's our anniversary, and we thought the café might suit a seven month old. Perhaps we should've arranged for takeaway."**

**Louisa smiled at his unusual friendliness: "No bother at all. I'm sure he'll be fine. Happy Anniversary to you."**

**As she returned to her tea, a tall woman in a military service uniform rushed toward the table: "Oh darling, I didn't mean to be late, but the brigadier always dawdles on Fridays. How's Ian? Come to mummy my love."**

**The mother held the child closely to her chest and his crying became gurgles of contentment. The father reached across the table and stroked his wife's hand cradling the baby. "You've been so stressed these last few months, Kates. Would you do it again? Would you still marry me?"**

"**Of course, silly. I've never been happier." **

**At this, Louisa determined not to further eavesdrop on the two. It was reminiscent of what she had lost with Martin and much too painful. **

"**Madame, your soup," Amir murmured as he placed the fragrant bowl before her. Didier had topped it with minced mushrooms and a dollop of **_**crème fraiche**_**, "to make your baby strong," the waiter announced. **

**Now, the couple looked toward Louisa: "Oh, then, you're pregnant," the mother exclaimed. "Fantastic," the father joined in. "Ian's our first, and he's changed our lives forever." The two lifted their glasses of anniversary champagne to Louisa: "Cheers to you," the dad toasted. Louisa raised her cup with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders and then pointedly returned to her meal. **

**For the next hour or so, she slowly sipped tea, eating first the soup, and then the salad, all the while casting covert glances at the couple enjoying their modest celebration. Ian was resting in his buggy, and the dad occasionally moved it back and forth to calm him. Along with the bill, Amir brought them a small, white package: "Your **_**tarte tatin**_**. The chef wishes you many more years of happiness." **

**Standing, the mother spoke again to Louisa: "We hope you didn't mind the baby. We only wanted to celebrate a bit." Raising the package, she continued: "We'll have the tarte at home, and get this one into his cot. With any luck, he'll sleep for a few hours."**

**As Louisa wished a good evening to the departing family, she ducked her head on seeing Holly enter the restaurant and look about frantically. Too late; she had been spotted.**

"**Oh, God, Lou, I've been searching for you. Don't you answer your mobile? You must help me or I'll be booted tomorrow. You must persuade Liliana to stay at Augusta Ada Lovelace."**

"**Holly, sorry, what is it you want?" She had been so pre-occupied with thoughts of Martin evoked by the couple that she nearly forgot Holly's dilemma. **

"**Don't be impertinent, Louisa. You met with Liliana this afternoon. She must've said something. Did she offer you a post?"**

"**No, no, not all Holly. Nothing was mentioned. Another teacher told me about St. Veronica's as I was leaving school. I was certainly surprised. Liliana's highly-regarded, and everyone's quite fond of her."**

"**Of course, everyone loves Liliana, I'm only the harridan who must manage the school. You know why she's leaving, don't you?" **

"**No, not as such. Was there a row? Something of the sort?"**

**Now Holly took a chair opposite Louisa and sniffed a few times before she snarled: "It's because of you. You, Louisa. You whom I rescued from your dreary life and the loutish doctor who'll never marry you.**

"**Liliana insisted I offer you a contract for the next year, and I refused. You simply aren't up to the standards of my school. One term as a fill-in but nothing beyond that. Oxonians are vying for posts at Addie, why should I keep you?" **

**If Amir hadn't appeared, Louisa wasn't certain what she may have done. He bowed politely to Holly and asked, "May I bring you something, madame? A glass of wine, tea?" **

"**Have you a decent Sancere," Holly snapped. **

"**Yes, madame, as decent as you are." Amir's sarcasm was lost on Holly but not on Louisa who pressed her lips together to contain the laughter.**

**The humour was short-lived as Louisa realised she would have no job for the next year at Addie or any other school. How would she support herself and the baby? **

"**Look, Lou, this can all be sorted out. Come with me to see Liliana. Persuade her to stay, and I'll extend you for another year. Maybe two. Perhaps an increase in your salary." **

"**Holly, I've no influence with Liliana. She's been quite kind to me, but it would be better if you saw her alone. You may have argued about me, but I'm certain there were other matters as well." **

**Recalling her role-playing with India and Helen, Louisa suggested: "Have your wine, relax a bit and we'll work through a way to speak with Liliana. Phone her and then go to her home and have a quiet chat."**

"**Please, please come with me Louisa. This is terribly important. If I'm sacked, you'll have no chance of a job for next year."**

**It took all of five minutes for Holly to quaff the decent Sancere and for Louisa to reluctantly leave with her. Holly hurried along the walkway to her Volvo, parked illegally in a disability bay. **

**Liliana and her husband lived not far away in Acton, and Holly drove aggressively through the heavy weekend traffic. Louisa again suggested they phone, but she demurred. "No, I want to catch her by surprise. If I appear at her door, she's too polite not to admit me. That's her aristocratic nature. Her bloody, obnoxious, holier-than-thou nature."**

**Circling the mews only once, Holly easily parked in a just-vacated spot opposite the Orestes' home. She hurried across to No. 67 with Louisa in her wake. Lights shone through each of the tall front windows and music could be heard as they approached the townhouse. It was Piatti's "Canto di Primavera," a piece Louisa recognized from the dinner party. That night Vincent played the cello and Liliana the piano. This would be quite a different sort of performance, and she hoped Liliana would forgive her.**

**With high heels punishing both her feet and the stone walkway, Holly imperiously walked to the front door and firmly rang the bell. The music continued, and Holly impatiently pressed the bell again. The cello stopped, but not the piano. **

**Vincent Orestes opened the door, looking every bit as bellicose as Holly. **

"**Good evening, Miss Williams," he stiffly acknowledged her. "How may I help you."**

"**I would like to see Liliana, if you don't mind. Have a word with her." **

"**Dr. Orestes is entertaining friends at the moment. We are about to have dinner. May I ask her to ring you later?"**

"**No, you bloody well may not. I want to see her now. Bring her to the door. I must speak to her immediately. I've brought Louisa as well," Holly lowered her strident voice a few decibels. **

"**Yes, I see that Miss Glasson is with you. I can't imagine whatever for. As I've said, Dr. Orestes is engaged for the evening. I'm afraid she'll be unable to see you. Now, I wish you both a pleasant evening," this with a strained look at Louisa.**

**The door was firmly closed, and a few minutes later, the cello music resumed. **

**Holly scrolled through her mobile and pressed a number, but there was no response. When the answerphone came on, Holly spoke in a saccharine tone: "Liliana, Holly here. Lovely that you're entertaining tonight, but it would be fantastic if you could phone me before tomorrow morning. I need a bit of a catch-up prior to the board meeting. Thank you ever so much." **

"**Now what," Louisa asked, hoping that Holly would abandon her foolish pursuit of Liliana.**

"**I suppose I could give you a lift to your pokey little flat. It's not far from here, is it?"**

"**No, it's just beyond the café. Or you can drop me there." **

**In the car, Holly said nothing but Louisa could feel the tension, actually rage, emanating from her. Her silence matched Holly's as she tried not to think of the spot she was in. She'd phone Liliana tomorrow and apologize. For now she longed to be in her bedsit, at the computer, reviewing job adverts. Certainly after tonight, she had no future at her current school. She must leave the expensive city and would look beyond Cornwall if need be.**

**She could find a teaching vacancy. If not, she'd return to Port Wenn and work out a way to support the baby. Many mums did it. There was employment to be had in Wadebridge, Delabole and even Bude. She could do something else while waiting for a teaching post to open. Older teachers throughout Cornwall were nearing retirement. She must be patient. It was not as dire as she feared. **

**They arrived at her flat in short order and on leaving the car, Louisa said: "You shouldn't worry, Holly. I have every confidence you'll do well with the board. You're brilliant at that sort of thing. Good luck tomorrow."**

"**You needn't be concerned, Lou. I didn't get this far without learning a thing or two. Good riddance to Liliana. I'll hire my own director of studies and Addie will soon be the top girl's school in London. Don't you worry about me. I'm a survivor. But you, Louisa, are not. Come to my office on Monday morning, we've a few things to sort out."**

**Continued . . . **

**́**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26  
**

**Changes**

**Responding to Holly's obvious threat, Louisa left her car with a terse good night. She was knackered by the evening's events and fell asleep without even a glance at job vacancies. Teachers would begin half-term on Tuesday, and she had anticipated time to prepare for the summer term. Now she must intensify her job search. She thought to drop the two day antenatal course offered by the NCT, but seeing baby Ian, Louisa realised her scant knowledge of infants. Barbara Bosley Bournham, of all people, had recommended the course. Her yoga instructor taught relaxation techniques during labour, and Babs trilled "she's fantastic."**

**Louisa had worked with children for nearly 20 years, but they were of school age. Her experience with newborns was limited to cuddling the occasional baby or her long-ago child minding. The course would cover the spectrum from the all-important baby scheduling to the more mundane nappies and creams. Some of the course offerings she hadn't considered: alongside sleeping, expressing breast milk, baby first aid, legal rights in the work place, and labour coaching.**

**Caroline Bosman wanted to be with her during labour as did Isobel. But with a first baby who knew when they should travel to London? Louisa was determined to give birth only with a midwife. If Martin were not there, she would have the baby on her own. **

**Despite Saturday's fateful board meeting, Louisa had a full breakfast as she searched new postings. A Year 5 teacher was needed in Tavistock, about an hour's drive from Port Wenn. Too far with the baby, and she had sold her car. No, she must be closer to the village. The let on White Rose Cottage ended in January, and she could at least provide a home for her child. **

**Squeezing her eyes together, Louisa offered a silent prayer to her grandfather, James. He sorted out past predicaments, including the few times she thought Martin was hopeless. If the baby were a boy, James would be his name. James Terry, she thought, although her father's name was not the most honourable.**

**If it were a girl, Elinor would not be used. Selwyn and Mavis were her grandmothers, but neither of those old-fashioned names appealed to her. ****Martin would be furious if she dared name the baby Joan, but perhaps she could use it as a middle name. Louisa knew Joan Norton would be honoured having Martin's child as a namesake. His mum was named Margaret, easily shortened to Maggie, Peggy or even Mags. But Martin hated his mother, so that name would not do.**

**She must get on to India's flat and the promised fashion show. Louisa had seen dresses from India's old life and only hoped her maternity clothes were as pretty. The drab outfits she had been hiding behind would be a thing of the past. **

**Saturday's farmers market was nearly ended, but Louisa found the Peasgood Nonsuch apples and gingerbread that the Cloverley children favoured. "You spoil them more than their grandparents," India chided. It was the least she could do for the three children who had burrowed their way into her heart these last few months. **

**On the tube, she read her well-thumbed baby book, and several women gave her knowing nods. One questioned: "So, love, when's the wee one to be born?"**

**A bit startled, Louisa responded without thinking: "Oh, toward the middle of July, perhaps the 17****th**** or so." No one chatted on the London tube. But she would soon learn that pregnant women were the exception. **

"**Now, you mightn't plan on it. I always tell my girls you can be two weeks early or two weeks late. There's no knowing. I'm Mary Martha Sheahan and work as a midwife in Southwark. If you need my services, you've only to call." Here the woman extended a card to Louisa just before she reached Chiswick. **

**Louisa's conversation was overhead by other passengers, and she left the train with many good wishes. Not being so obviously pregnant, she hadn't yet experienced the random comments, smiles and advice from people who became a bit too familiar. Perhaps the antenatal course would address this as well.**

**Chaos greeted her at India's flat. Sarah, Alexandra and Tommy were preparing to spend the first week of half term at the home of India's parents in Hampshire. Irene and Richard Benoit helped with the last minute scrambles for books, coats and umbrellas. "Good Lord, India," groaned her father, "You five never had a tiny portion of this stuff. I'm not sure how we'll squeeze it in with this lot."**

"**Now, dear, settle down," soothed Irene Benoit, "you've said the same thing each year, and there's always space. I told you we should've brought Gideon."**

"**Oh, Gideon, we love Gideon," shouted Tommy.**

"**It's my mum's dog," India explained. "They're mad for a puppy, but I can't manage another thing." **

**Louisa gave the children the apples and sweets as each hugged and kissed her good bye. She was almost as weepy as India seeing them go off.**

**She remained in the flat whilst India accompanied her family to the car. A few minutes later she returned, still wiping at her eyes. "I know it's silly. They'll be perfectly fine, and they adore their grandparents. But it's for a week. My babies will be gone for a week," India sniffed.**

**Patting her shoulder, Louisa switched on the tea kettle and related her experience on the tube and the unsettling events of the previous evening.**

"**If Holly sacks me on Monday, I'll have little time to find a new job. The two schools in Cornwall have hired other candidates, so there's that. **

"**Oh, Louisa, you're a good teacher. You'll find a post. Look in London as well. There are many more resources for mothers in the city."**

"**No, I really don't want to be in London, especially now."**

**Spooning tea into the pot, India probed: "Why's that? Come on, spill. Is it about the doctor?"**

**How did India always sense these things? "It's just that Martin's friend, well the wife of his friend, rang me about the job at her school. Apparently, Martin's been sorting out his blood thing and may be resuming his surgical career in London. What do you make of it?"**

**"Well, my ****brother Michael's a consultant at Maidstone, and he needs constant training to keep his standing. Even if Martin's over the phobia, I can't imagine the NHS would let him operate without re-qualifying. I should think that would be a requirement for his licence. I could ask Michael if you like."**

"**No, I just wondered if he might come here because of me. Of course, that sounds ridiculous as he's made no effort to contact me, but he does that sort of thing. Acts first, and then tells you. Doesn't give you a say in it, does he?"**

"**Louisa, you really must contact Martin during half-term. Collect your wits, and try once more. It'll only become more difficult when the baby's born. Promise me, won't you? ** **Meanwhile, let's see what I've dredged up from the storage room. Everything's eight years old but should smarten up your last trimester."**

**Arrayed across India's bed was a vivid collection of dresses, trousers, tops and jeans, swathed in drycleaning wrap. The colourful pieces reminded Louisa of a garden, and she was eager to try them on her blooming body.**

**Louisa donned each of the dresses for India's approval. Some were a bit too formal, more suited to the social position her friend once held. She was particularly enthralled by a purple silk dress with ruffles of chiffon falling from the neckline to the hem. Like her wedding dress it was very, very pretty, but it would be just as useless to her. **

**After deciding against it, India sighed: "I loved that dress. It cost a king's treasure. Do you think I could still wear it? Maybe pass it off as a loose shift?"**

**India quickly shed her usual jeans and jersey and stepped into the dress. When Louisa zipped it, she saw that it was much too big for India. "Oh, now I feel like a cow. That dress fit me perfectly, but hangs on you. How did you shift all the baby weight?"**

"**Well, I've had plenty of time since Tommy, but I've only lost it in the last year or so."**

"**Was it the stress of the children and managing the shelter," Louisa asked with concern.**

**India hesitated enough that Louisa realized there was another reason. Danny. India shifted the weight when she met him.**

"**It was only 20 pounds or so, but I had no incentive to lose it. You know how it is, Louisa, you don't change until you want to. Danny made me want to change. Not only to look good but to be healthy. If I must wait ten years to have him, I want to live as long as possible after that. **

"**Alright, then, **** let's try the trousers," India's not-so-subtle attempt to distract the conversation from Danny.**

**Undaunted, Louisa asked: "What do you think made Danny change?" She had noticed the difference each time she saw Danny. He had become quite serious about his work and was doing well. He had dropped his pseudo-religious fervour along with his Peter Pan approach to life. It seemed as if Danny Steel had matured considerably in the year or so since leaving Port Wenn. **

"**Louisa, do you truly want me to bang on about Danny?"**

"**Actually, India, it would be quite helpful. This baby will force many changes, and I must adapt. Perhaps if I had been less harsh with Martin, I wouldn't be in this mess. Addressing his blood issue means he's willing to change as well. Maybe our separation was for the best. We've each had time to think things through."**

"**Oh, Louisa, I hope you're right. Danny and I try not to talk about you, but he knew about you two before even returning to Port Wenn. Muriel said you were the talk of the village, and everyone thought you'd soon marry. **

"**Danny was in turmoil when he left London. A few of the projects he designed never got underway, and he was having difficulty finding work in the city. He could live in Port Wenn quite easily and inexpensively. He had his parents' house and could make a go of it with small re-dos. **

"**I don't mean to embarrass you, Louisa, but he told me about your dinner with too much wine. You more or less agreed to move in with him and see what developed. Gossip was that you and Martin were on the outs, and Danny found your attention flattering.**

"**Of course, the minute London beckoned, he had to return. He thought you were relieved as well and knew you didn't love him. You were settling for Danny because you had given up on the doctor."**

**Louisa nodded. She would be settling with Danny. **

"**Danny believes I made him change. But I think the impetus ****was facing his mother's mortality. Danny has no brothers, sisters or close relatives. There's a dotty aunt in Essex who's older than his mum and a few second cousins in Ireland. When his mother became ill, he reckoned he'd soon be alone in the world. **

"**He'd been such a twit that no woman would put up with him, and he doesn't want to be alone. Maddening isn't it that he fell for me with the guarantee that he'll be alone for some time. **

"**As for me,**** I ****had allowed myself to become the spoiled darling of a man who didn't respect me. I turned a blind eye to his many faults and expected nothing better for myself.**

**"What caused me to change was my divorce lawyer, a tough old bird my brother Donald scared up for me. She made it quite clear that I had three children dependent on me. Despite the Cloverley money, it was down to me to create a life not centered around tennis and lunch. She told me I was bright and could make a difference in the world with my children and myself. No one had ever been that confident in me.  
**

**"I expected to cry for days moving house from Broundesbury to this flat, but I shed not one tear. I was relieved to be done with Chester and all the drama. It wasn't how I wanted my children to live. **

"**Looking for a job was terribly humiliating. Philosophy and religious studies teach you to think logically and write well. The logical piece meant I was organised, and writing always puts one in good stead. Unfortunately, not with London employers. This is a financial capital and, unlike you, maths is not my metier. **

"**I first volunteered at Holyrood and loved it. When the director left, I boldly applied for the vacancy and was miraculously hired. The job and my children were all I needed. Then, a wealthy benefactor died and left money to refurbish the shelter. Danny won the commission, because he'd done similar work at a nearby block of flats.**

"**I thought I was in charge, and Danny thought he was. We fought for the first six months until the shelter's social worker forced us into a truce. Our bickering was affecting the operation of Holyrood. Soon the rows turned to outrageous flirting. Mind you, I'd been divorced for several years and hadn't as much as a wink from another man. **

"**I was very skittish and frightened about how to manage the Cloverleys, but Danny and I have worked through it all. So, you see Louisa, when two people put their minds to it, they can change."**

"**Does Danny make you happy, India?"**

"**Oh, no you don't Louisa. You must create you own happiness. Remember Aristotle. Until I took control of my life, I couldn't make myself happy. Yes, Danny does make me happy. But it's because of the very difficult changes I've made. You must do the same to have a worthwhile relationship with Martin. **

"**And forget his stupid comment that you wouldn't make him happy. He first must work through his own problems, so that he allows you to make him happy. You can tell him I said so."**

**Continued . . . . **


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**Transformation**

**Louisa Glasson looked about her cluttered bedsit and wondered aloud how she had accumulated so much during her few months in London. Novels from the book exchange at school, colorful pillows and throws found at thrift shops and lastly the maternity clothing from India.**

**All were to be packed for her return to Port Wenn. **

**Last Sunday she had worried herself into such a state that she had finally phoned Bronwyn Abercrombie, the education administrator for the Cornwall Council. **

"**Bronwyn, hullo, Louisa Glasson here. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I need a bit of help."**

"**I'm not speaking to anyone named Louisa Glasson," was the dramatic response. "She left me in the lurch with that Strain person as head teacher in Port Wenn. I've heard she's teaching at a posh school in London. Ran off and left us in Cornwall, didn't she."**

"**Oh, Bron, it's so good to talk with you," Louisa was overcome with a homesickness she had resisted for months. "That's why I'm ringing you. London isn't right for me, and I've been searching for a post in Cornwall. There's nothing."**

"**Alright then, Glasson, I forgive you. I've missed our chats about the mysterious minds of primary school pupils, boys especially. But do ****you want to change at half-term? It's difficult at best finding a headship in Cornwall, but now it's nearly impossible. The only vacancy I have in Port Wenn is a half time reading interventionist. I'm afraid we had to give Strain a full year's contract."**

"**You've got a job in Port Wenn! It's not been posted. Oh, Bron, tell me about it."**

"**Minnie Tompkins took a full-time post in Bude, leaving no one for your school. I believe it's three days a week, 20 hours or so. To be honest, two mums from the village applied for it, but Strain frightened them away. ****This isn't something you'd want. Not with your experience."**

"**Please, Bron, let me apply for it. I can be in Port Wenn well before summer term begins. I'd love to come home as soon as possible."**

"**Louisa, if you're certain, I'll phone the head tomorrow. But I must warn you, he's a bit of an odd duck and can be very off-putting. Stand your ground with him. That's nothing I have to tell you, though. You've always had more bollocks than most."**

**As soon as she rang off, Louisa quickly calculated her living costs against the half time salary. She had been frugal in London and even saved a sum. Except for water fees, Port Wenn was less expensive than London, and she could manage with savings. One phone conversation transformed her from despair to elation. She could go home.**

**On Monday morning, Louisa dressed in the dark blue dress ****with tiny white flowers from India's collection. Looking in the mirror, her pregnancy was quite evident. There would be nothing to tell Holly. A gone by chance baby was in the offing. **

**The school was as silent as the ****day Louisa first arrived. No students were to be found, and teachers were quietly tidying their classrooms. Waiting outside Holly's office, she heard the head of school berate Mr. Qureshi for not switching off the heat. He rushed from the office, fists clenched by his side, but paused on seeing Louisa. ****"Ah, Ms. Glasson, Dr. Orestes would like to meet ****when you have a free moment."**

**"Liliana's still here, then?"**

**"Certainly. ****We will be leaving in July for St. Veronica's but, for the moment, we shall keep this school on course. It is our duty." With his head held high, he turned away from the wrath of Holly who demanded: "Louisa, is that you? Come through and leave him to it."**

**After Holly's insufferable behaviour on Friday night, Louisa was in no mood for more nonsense. She did not need Holly or this school. After speaking to Bronwyn, she vowed to take control of her life, just as India had done. **

**"Good morning, Holly," she spoke in a reasoned tone on entering the head's office.**

"**My God, Lou, you're pregnant!" Holly pulled off her specs to have a second look. "Whose is it? The doctor's? Well, he'll want nothing to do with it. Someone like him doesn't want a bastard ruining the family line. Do you think **_**this **_**will make him marry you," pointing to Louisa's stomach.**

"**Holly, why did you want to see me?" Louisa had anticipated a fractious meeting and carefully controlled herself.**

"**Why did I want to see you? Well, until a moment ago, it was to have you stay on through summer term. But now, now," again she gestured toward Louisa's middle, "we simply can't have this."**

"**I thought as much, Holly. If you don't mind, may I leave now, before my contract ends. Certainly there's a maths teacher among those vying for posts at your school."**

**Realising she may be on thin legal ice, Holly quickly reversed herself: "This has nothing to do with the pregnancy, of course. You've voluntarily decided to end your employment with Augusta Ada Lovelace School. Is that correct, Ms. Glasson?"**

"**Yes, Ms. Williams, that is correct." Louisa had no interest in creating problems for the school.**

"**Alright, then. If you would remove personal items from your office, I will send Mr. Qureshi to help you. Please come to my office at three o'clock and your termination papers will be prepared." With this Holly began to sort through reports on her desk, effectively dimissing her old friend. **

**As Louisa climbed stairs to her office, she encountered other teachers who looked mildly shocked. To forestall their comments, she smiled: "Yes, I'm having a baby. Due in July. I've just spoken with the head and resigned. It's gotten a bit too much." **

**Surprisingly, the women wished her well, saying they would miss her. The girls thought highly of Louisa, particularly her coaching for the Maths Olympiad. Members of the Junior Maths Society had won several matches, and it was a first for Addie. The school was definitely on the ascent. Similar sentiments were repeated in her small office, as the three teachers who shared the space insisted on an impromptu farewell lunch. **

"**Let's go to Yoki's," Reena Patel urged. "I was mad for sushi during my pregnancy. But no sword fish or tuna." **

"**Brilliant," Louisa agreed. "I've had no decent fish since leaving Port Wenn. Let me pop in on Liliana and clear my desk. Then we'll be off."**

**Speaking in a low voice, Marisol Reyes urged: "You must quiz Liliana on the board meeting. We thought either she or Holly would be sacked. But they're both here. Promise you'll find out."**

"**I'll only tell you what Liliana will allow me to say. I doubt she'll make much of it. She always rises above it, doesn't she."**

**Outside Liliana's office, she heard the frenetic clicking of a keyboard and knocked a bit loudly before entering. The current director of studies continued typing for a minute before touching the key to send an email message. **

"**Sorry, Louisa, I just wanted to get that off." Then looking a bit more closely: "What a perfect dress. You can wear it now and after the baby's born. I wish they had something that nice 30 years ago. We wore these horrid poufy things that made us look like balloons with limbs. Very unattractive they were.**

"**Well, then, how was the meeting with Queen Holly? I recommended that the board keep you on through summer term but couldn't do much beyond that. They were a bit upset with my leaving and were somewhat unreceptive to suggestions. At one point, they had Holly leave the room and begged me to stay on as head. I have no interest in doing so. I'm returning to my first love – teaching science. Chemistry, biology, perhaps botany. It's a perfect way to end my career. Now what are you to do?"**

"**I've just learned of a vacancy at my old school. Reading interventionist and only half time. Apparently the new head of school is somewhat difficult, but I can manage until a full time post opens."**

"**Teaching is not what I mean, Louisa. What will you do about your little one? You'll ****be on your own with tenuous employment and an infant. Do you have any family in the village? Friends who can help you? "**

**"No family, but I do have friends. I'll stay with them or find a place until January when the let ends for my cottage. I've worked out a plan."**

**Looking somewhat dubious, Liliana raised the subject Louisa did not wish to discuss: "What about the father? At a minimum he has a financial obligation to you, Louisa. You may be able to work only half time with a newborn. The child benefit helps, but it is not enough for everything that will be needed. **

"**And then there's the moral obligation. You haven't told the father, have you?"**

**Louisa said nothing. "I see. Still being stubborn. Let me remind you that English law may allow you control of the matter, but you did not create this baby on your own. There is a father, and he has a right to know of his paternity. No matter how much you think he doesn't care, you must let him know about his child."**

**"Liliana, I have tried. But I think it's best telling him when I'm home. We always talk at cross-purposes and end up in a row. It will be much better face-to-face." Louisa tried to convince herself along with Liliana.**

**"Alright then, there's nothing to be done but have a farewell party for you. When are you leaving London?"**

**"I thought next Tuesday. I have the antenatal course on Friday and Saturday and will finish packing and posting boxes on Monday."**

"**Well the course is a very good idea. If you insist on going it alone, you'll need it. I suppose you'll want no one during the birth, will you."**

"**Yes, that's right. Liliana, it may not seem this way to you. You are seeing me at a terribly ****vulnerable time. But I am very strong and quite brave. Everything I have accomplished in life has been on my own. And I will have my baby the very same way."**

**Continued. . . . **


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**Openings**

**Louisa returned from a ****long, gossipy lunch with Anne, Marisol and Reena, quickly cleared her desk and hugged each of the women good bye. Yes she would let them know about the baby. Of course she would send photos as well. They would always be cherished colleagues. If they ever traveled to Cornwall, and so forth.**

**After signing termination papers with Holly, the head of school produced a cheque equal to Louisa's salary through summer term. **

"**The board thought it best to compensate you for an early departure. I disagreed, but there were certain legalities to consider . . ." at this Holly's voice trailed off. Louisa understood. She was being paid to not even insinuate that leaving was related to her pregnancy. Fine. She needed the money.**

**Mr. Qureshi had fetched her boxes and held the school's front door open. Outside a taxi awaited. "My friend, Haziz, will drive you home and carry the cartons to your flat. I shall see you with Dr. Orestes on Sunday." With a rare smile followed by a courtly salute, he helped Louisa into the car and gently closed the door. She refused to look back at Augusta Ada Lovelace School. Now that her contract was settled, she must move forward. A call to the estate agent was next.**

"**Babs Bournham here."**

"**Babs, this is Louisa Glasson from 1128 Hewlett Road. Uhm, I'm afraid I won't be able to stay on at the bedsit. If I could somehow end the lease ****early. Perhaps in a week or so." She braced herself for an onslaught. **

"**Fantastic! You've solved a massive problem. How soon can you leave? Harry's PA needs a let ****immediately. Now don't tell her what you're paying. Let me raise the rent. Monique will be pleased. Leave the flat in good nick and will call it even."**

**Exhilarated by the ease in leaving both the school and her bedsit, Louisa felt anything was possible. India was right. Only she could be responsible for her life. She hadn't controlled her life by leaving Port Wenn, but escaped it. Well, she was in London for only a few more days and may not soon return. She'd make the most of it and tour the city. With the sizeable payment tucked in her purse, there was less worry about a full-time posting. **

**London's museums, libraries and parks were hers for the next few days. Louisa joined tourists from around the world in watching**** the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, walked through the Merchant Seaman's Memorial Garden and thought fondly of her Grandfather James. Had the World War II submariner saved his granddaughter once more? **

**After touring the Parliament building on Thursday afternoon, Louisa took the tube to St. Thomas's Hospital, the site of Martin's London career. She had been very curious about his life before Port Wenn, but he would only say: "There's nothing to tell. I worked and little more." Well then, she could at least see where he worked. **

**The young woman at the security desk was so interested in Louisa's pregnancy that she waved her through and helpfully provided directions to the cardiovascular wards. In the lift a tall, grey-haired man lectured a flock of students with the air of authority Martin had adopted at Royal Cornwall Hospital. ****When the lift reached the 8****th**** floor, Louisa lost herself among the students and bypassed the ward sister's desk. A sense of gravity suffused the air, and Louisa could easily imagine Martin**** moving confidently through the corridors. First as an eager student, then as a harried consultant. **

"**Operating Theatres, Medical Staff Only" was posted at the entry to a short hallway ending with double doors. Looking about, Louisa inched her way toward the doors unimpeded. This was where Martin held sway. She was certain of it. The surroundings were so different from his village surgery: cold, quiet, impersonal. Little wonder he hated the sort of medicine practised in Port Wenn. **

**Before she could turn back, the doors opened and two men in blue scrubs exited, heads bowed, intently talking. They glanced at her with no interest and continued their conversation. They looked about Martin's age. Perhaps they had worked with him. She wanted to run after them and ask: "Do you know Martin Ellingham? Tell me about him. Tell me about his work here."**

**If his London life were known, she could unravel Martin. Really know him. Finally understand him. Standing in the sterile space, Louisa realised this was not the way to learn of Martin. She must talk to him in Port Wenn. She shouldn't have come here. She hurried along the ward, out of the hospital and to the tube station. The last few days had been tiring, and she need rest for the antenatal course beginning tomorrow. **

**Collecting her booklet for the course, Louisa provided her cash card to the clerk: "It's been paid. In advance." Squinting at the computer screen, the woman chirped: "A Barbara Bosley Bournham paid. There's a note hoping you find the course useful. Is it a friend, then? Lovely gift, I'd say, for the new mother."**

**This was the first of many times Louisa would be amazed before leaving London. **

**The first half of the day was devoted to sessions on labour and delivery. As promised, the relaxation techniques taught by Babs' yoga instructor were useful. Repeating her assigned mantra, Louisa found a tranquility she hadn't known in many months. **

**Her peace was shattered by the appearance of Paula Krugman, an obstetrician from St. Mary's Hospital who offered a very graphic description of labour and delivery. Several of the men attending the course lost their composure during the short film she presented. Dr. Krugman briskly pointed out that women were much stronger than men at this sort of thing. Louisa was not as certain. **

**Although her appetite was a bit dampened by the morning's classes, Louisa dutifully tucked into the healthy lunch provided. Last night she had eaten too many of the chocolate biscuits brought from her office and must make amends. **

**The afternoon offerings were somewhat lighter with discussions of nutrition, exercise and grooming during pregnancy. One man described shaving his wife's legs as her belly expanded, and another talked of applying varnish to his partner's toenails. Sighs of appreciation greeted these loving stories. Louisa closed her eyes against envy and regret, knowing she would never have similar memories. **

**Alice Haverty, a solicitor from the Citizens Advice Bureau, ended the day with information for working mothers. Louisa had familiarised herself with government benefits for babies and mothers, but she knew little about legal issues in the work place. Ms. Haverty covered the topic thoroughly and then moved on to paternal rights and responsibilities. **

**This captured Louisa's attention, particularly when she spoke of unmarried parents. Martin would have limited rights to their baby, but the solicitor urged the mothers to involve fathers with their children. "Dads play an important role in the physical, psychological and emotional development of a child. Even if you and the father can't make a go of it, the child must have a relationship with him. Don't harm your little one by keeping her from dad."**

**Those words played through Louisa's mind into the next morning when she arrived for the second part of the course. This was taught by two natology nurses, also from St. Mary's. ****Each woman was given a lifelike doll to practise caring for an infant. Techniques Louisa had only read about were demonstrated with the dolls.**

**She was a bit embarrassed as she and the other participants were instructed to simulate nursing the doll. Feeding scarfs were handed out to cover the exposed breasts of women who could not suppress giggles. "It is a bit amusing, but you must be prepared to feed when baby is hungry. After the birth, you'll receive further instructions with your own newborn. We won't send you off until everything is tickety-boo," assured one of the nurses. "Alright then, let's learn how to take baby's temperature rectally." **

**The day continued in this manner, and Louisa was re-assured by the end of the course that she could care for her child. In fact, she was quite looking forward to it. That night, as she did every night before falling asleep, Louisa talked to the baby. But tonight was different. She talked to the baby for the first time about Martin. **

"**You'll be a bit of a surprise for him. You were for me. But I loved you from the second I knew of you. The doctor in Truro was quite kind. When I cried, she hugged me and said you would be the best thing I ever did. I think your dad will feel the same. Maybe not right off. But he will. He'll be a bit wobbly at first, but when he feels you move, understands how I love you, he'll be fine. Your father's a good man, but you'll learn that just as I have."**

**The next two days were hectic as Louisa disassembled her London life and packed it into three large cartons and two cases. By the time Gareth knocked on her flat's blue door, she was ready for Liliana's shower. India had insisted she wear the purple, ruffled dress, and she felt quite smart indeed. Didier awaited with his vintage black Peugeot, buffed and polished for the occasion. Her two friends could barely wait to see Liliana's townhouse. "It's on the best square in Acton," Gareth gushed. "Their antiques must be gorgeous," Didier added. **

**On entering their home, Liliana and Vincent welcomed Louisa by playing the Brahms "Lullaby" and finished with the Italian nursery song "Stella, Stellina." Anne, Reena and Marisol surprised Louisa with their presence as did the somewhat subdued Barbara Bosley Bournham. Louisa had asked Liliana to invite her, but thought a baby shower would not be on her social to do list. **

**Fresh from their visit to Hampshire, Alexandra, Tommy and Sarah rushed to greet Louisa and chatter about their adventures with Gideon. They were led away by Mr. Qureshi who asked for their help in organising gifts. Danny Steel stood at one end of the lounge, a discreet distance from India, having met her children for the first time. Louisa noticed the keen interest on Danny's face as he observed the three and the regret on India's as she watched him. **

**Louisa moved from friend to friend thanking them for their kindness. She finished with Danny: "You look beautiful, Lou. You're going to be the best mum, and Port Wenn's the place to raise a child. Remember how much fun we had as kids? Always into something. PC McKinley chasing us about the Platt. Pulling veg at Phil Norton's farm. Old Mrs. Donaldson from Port Wenn Primary. Doc Sims jabbing us and missing the mark. You're doing the right thing. Sort it out with that blasted Ellingham. Make him the luckiest bastard in the world by marrying him."**

**Louisa leaned toward Danny and touched his cheek with her lips. "Thank you, Danny," she whispered, now even more homesick for Port Wenn and Martin. **

"**But what's to become of you and India?"**

"**One way or the other, we'll be together. You know better than most that the easy piece is falling in love. Then come the challenges to that love. India and I keep working them out. You'll do the same with the doctor, Louisa."**

**Following a buffet supper, the merry group returned to the lounge where Vincent escorted Louisa to a large chair festooned with pink and blue streamers. Sarah and Alexandra stood anxiously nearby awaiting the nod from Liliana to shower the guest of honour with gifts. **

**What followed was a bit overwhelming. Her office mates gave a baby album with the first photo one of Louisa standing amongst her smiling students. A hand-knitted white blanket and pillow came from the Qureshis, whilst Amir and Nasarin's present was ****a Beatrix Potter cup, spoon and bowl. "For baby's mushroom soup," Amir said with an impish grin. **

**Gareth and Didier primly noted that the stylish assortment of sleepsuits, bits and bobs for the nursery were "from the store where Victoria Beckham shops." Tucked in a Moses basket was a collection of children's books and music from Liliana and Vincent. "Your baby shall be as brilliant as her mum," Liliana declared. The last gift was a soft toy lamb with a card reading: "We are sending to you in Port Wenn a flat pack cot and changer chest for your little one." Love always, India, Sarah, Alexandra, Tommy and Danny." **

**Awash in gratitude and a new type of homesickness, Louisa stood to thank them all. "You have been very kind to me and made my life in London quite pleasant. I am leaving with good memories and appreciation for your thoughtful gifts. I would especially like to thank Babs for the antenatal course. It was very helpful, and I now know how to be a mum. Or at least I think I do." A rousing "here, here," greeted this comment. **

"**Liliana and Vincent, thank you for hosting this shower and for helping me in so many ways. I'm not certain when, but I will be back in London so that all of you may meet my baby. I may be on my own, but I never felt that way because of you."**

**Continued . . . **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**Breaches**

"**Larchmont Hall, this is Judith Montgomery. May I be of help?" Martin Ellingham was quite put off by the young woman's hauteur but proceeded nonetheless. **

"**Yes. This is Martin Ellingham. May I speak with Dr. Rose Montgomery."**

"**One moment, sir." At least the girl had some manners he consoled himself. His opinion changed quickly as he heard her shout: "Grandmother, Martin Ellingsworth wants to speak with you. Shall I bring you the phone."**

**Blast no. It's Ellingham, Martin Ellingham. Can't anyone get a name straight, he fumed.**

**Martin heard a bit of crackling on the line and then the still robust voice of Edith's mother: "This is Rose Montgomery, Mr. Ellingsworth, but I'm afraid I can't place your name."**

"**Dr. Montgomery, this is Martin Ellingham. Ellingham. It seems the girl made a mistake." **

"**Oh, my dear! Is this actually you Martin? When I didn't receive a Christmas card for the last few years, I assumed you had made a marriage and forgotten about us. You know the young wives have their own way of doing things. Make you drop your old friends. Henry was delighted to receive your note about his book. His memory's a bit spotty, but he did recall you. Are you still a liberal then?"**

"**No, I suppose Mr. Montgomery was correct. I've become more conservative with age and employment in the PCT."**

"**I must say it was a surprise reading that in your note. No longer working at St. Thomas's but off for a respite with the Cornwall PCT. How are you finding life in the West Country?"**

"**It's challenging, of course. Greatly different from London and surgery. But I've learned a good deal about general medicine. Something I wasn't exposed to at St. Thomas's. The practise has been useful, but I'm thinking of returning to London. No reason to remain here."**

"**Yes, I can certainly understand that. You'll be at St. Thomas's, will you?"**

"**Likely not. With the various mergers, most of the high level vascular work is done at Imperial. I hope to return, uhm, possibly before September. I've a few things to, uhm, manage before taking any posting."**

"**Yes, of course, re-training, that sort of thing. I've finally retired my licence. Although some of the old farmers still bring their work horses to me. It's quite difficult to give up any sort of medicine. One always feels needed."**

"**That's not been my experience here in Port Wenn. Sorry, the village where I work. I don't feel needed, and certainly not appreciated. It's a tough lot here."**

"**Oh, Martin, they appreciate you. They're like my veterinary patients. They don't say much, but I know they love me."**

**At this quip Martin laughed: "I must say, Dr. Montgomery, you still have your sense of humour. It's quite refreshing chatting with you."**

"**And you, as well. Now, I don't suppose you phoned to catch up with an old woman. How may I help you, my dear?"**

**How, indeed, could she help him? Recently he recalled their long-ago conversations and how comforting and understanding she had been. Louisa had elicited the same feelings as their wedding day approached. Perhaps speaking with Dr. Montgomery, he could work out a way with Lousia. Be with her when he returned to London. He was not certain how to broach the subject, so he bumbled forward. **

"**It's only that I had lunch a few weeks ago with a med school mate. Chris Parsons. He's in Cornwall as well. I mentioned your note and said I might phone you. I've been quite busy, and only wanted to thank you for your letter. I've missed your Christmas cards, too. That's all." **

"**But Martin, you could've sent your address when you went off to the village. I would have kept up with you. Truth be told, I was quite sad when my cards were returned, and I had no way of locating you. My granddaughter, Judith, has found addresses for me on the internet, but I didn't want to intrude on your life. Especially if you were married."**

"**No, I'm not married. It's only that, well, I thought I was finished with surgery, that part of my career. I severed all ties to my old life and tried to accept my role as a GP. But with my problem – my issue – nearly resolved, surgery is once again possible.**

"**What problem is that, Martin?"**

"**Nothing really. A bit of haemophobia. It hampered me somewhat as a surgeon, but I've gotten through it. Yes, I've gotten through it."**

"**Hameophobia! My dear boy, how could you function even as a GP? What a horrid curse for a physician. Your therapist must be quite good. Phobias are a tricky business. Well done, Martin."**

"**There was no therapist. It seems I managed the treatment on my own. Desensitization, watching films, seeing a few surgeries. I've made great progress."**

"**All on your own? No therapist? Although one might have helped with your childhood, horrid parents, that sort of thing."**

**"My parents had nothing to do with my problem," he tried not to take umbrage at her candid comments. "It was caused by exposure to the high stress environment of surgery. I've taken a few years away and schooled myself in proper coping techniques. Now I'm ready to return, no worse for it."**

**Ignoring his bluster, Rose prodded more: "Now, did you say you aren't married. No fair young lasses in Cornwall to lure you into marriage?"**

"**Well, I believe lasses are in Scotland not Cornwall, Dr. Montgomery."**

"**How silly of me," Rose laughed. "No one would know that better than I, having trained in Edinburgh. Let me say it another way: No Cornish beauties to charm you into marriage. I should think the sea air and slower pace would have opened up a fuller life for you."**

"**Actually, I am quite busy in the village. I have little time for more than my practise and my hobby. Clocks. Clocks are my hobby."**

"**Clocks! How dreadfully boring, Martin. That's an old man's hobby. You're much too young for something so tedious."**

**Inhaling sharply, Martin was beginning to regret his call to Rose Montgomery. She was sounding more like his Aunt Joan than the charming woman he recalled from Larchmont Hall. He'd ring off and be done with her. It was a foolish idea to have phoned Edith's mother. No one could help him with Louisa. **

"**Perhaps, the clocks are a bit tedious, but I do enjoy them. There is little else to do in Port Wenn."**

"**All the more reason to find a wife, Martin."**

**Blast, this woman was becoming as annoying as Aunt Joan. Vigorously resisting her every attempt to discuss Louisa, Joan seemed resigned to his fate as a bachelor. She brought around the occasional casserole, and he often had Sunday chicken at Havenhurst Farm. Their conversations were rehashes of old family arguments or desultory commentaries on the weather. Joan wouldn't even gossip with him. Something he greatly appreciated as he was often at the center of it. He'd ring off and get back to his clock. Yes, his boring clock.**

"**Dr. Montgomery I've enjoyed our conversation. But I've a busy day tomorrow and must say good night."**

"**You know, Martin, I've given more advice than my children and now grandchildren have cared to hear. But they do occasionally follow it and with good results. You're a fine man, and you should have a wife. Now promise me you'll find a kind woman when you're back in London. Not someone like Edith, of course. Someone nice who loves you."**

"**Really, I assure you that I don't need a wife. I don't want a wife. If I wanted a wife, I would've married Louisa!"**

**Like a lion to the wildebeest, the sharp-minded Rose Montgomery pounced: "Who's Louisa?"**

"**No one. Only some teacher. From the village. Port Wenn. She's actually in London now. She's teaching there."**

"**Is that your interest in returning to London? You want to be with this Louisa again?"**

**Perhaps it was her experience in treating mute animals or the instincts gained by raising six children, but for the next while, Rose Montgomery extracted every bit of information about Louisa Glasson from Martin Ellingham. At the end of his soul-baring recital, she urged: "Martin, you must speak with her. What time is it? Let me ring off and you phone her tonight. You have to sort this out. Promise me you will."**

**Now completely embarrassed by his outpouring to a woman he hadn't seen in 20 years, Martin began to retract the emotions he had just laid before her. Yes, of course, he would phone tonight. She was right. He must sort out things with Louisa. He would do it. Yes, he promised her.**

"**Dr. Montgomery, I appreciate your time. You've been quite kind."**

"**Alright then, ****Martin, you've only to get on with it. That's what I've always told my children. The only way to solve a problem is to meet it, not ignore it. You've addressed your haemophobia. Now you must do the same with your Louisa. You must be on your own no longer."**

**Continued . . . **


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**Division**

**As if last night's conversation with Rose Montgomery were not irritating enough, Martin Ellingham faced the prospect of a village filled with tourists and their appalling children. What their attraction was to this miserable hinterland he would never understand. Hopefully, there would be little demand for his medical skills with this influx of humanity. His little free time must be used to overcome his minor blood issue.**

**He had pushed to the back of his mind Aunt Joan's snide comment that her friend, Barbara Collingsworth, could cure his phobia as easily as she trained unruly canines. Hurrying back to surgery, he was stopped by a collision between that imbecile, Clive Tishell, and the very same Mrs. Collingsworth. When he tried to help, his reward was a deep gash to the palm. He was forced to waste time traveling to hospital, only to have his hand stitched up by a surly nurse who did not appreciate his insistence on a simple, uninterrupted suture. His hands must never be scarred or damaged. Without their dexterity, he could no longer perform surgery. A fate he did not wish to repeat. **

**Then there had been his long-avoided encounter with Edith Montgomery. Head bowed to squelch his nausea, the first thing he noticed was her impractical footwear. Nothing unusual there. What was unusual was the oddly-coloured hair framing her face. Recalling his awkward attempts to compliment Louisa and their severe repercussions, he commented only on Edith's shoes. **

**As they got into it about Barbara Collingsworth, Montgomery had accused him of losing his edge. What of her? She who had gone off in glory to Canada was in the same backwater as he, albeit practising the medicine for which she had trained. **

**Now, he was becoming increasingly annoyed as Montgomery failed to appear at the hospital café for the coffee she insisted they have. As he stood to leave, she rushed in and breathed: "Ever so sorry, Ellingham. We've just gotten a positive pregnancy report for a patient who's had four unsuccessful IVF cycles in London We're elated. Another win for the Zeffren Clinic!"**

"**I suppose so," he dryly noted to dampen Edith's absurd enthusiasm. **

"**But you don't have coffee," an unnecessary comment in his opinion. "Shall I bring you one?"**

"**You know I dislike hospital coffee," he grumbled.**

"**Of course, among your many dislikes. Let me remember: stupid people, children, dogs, cats, people who like dogs and cats, and so forth. I'll bring you a cuppa. White isn't it?"**

**He nodded and watched Edith's tall, elegant body move off toward the tea station. Although Chris had told him of her presence in Truro, he was still shaken on seeing her this morning. Particularly under such infuriating circumstances. She tried to explain away her mis-diagnosis, but finally admitted that she had been rushed and went with her gut rather than having the proper tests done. **

**When he tried to question her judgement, she held up her hand: "Oh spare me, Ellingham. We're both at fault here. You highjacked a patient and a machine and I made a mistake. Let's move on shall we."**

**Edith carefully carried a tea tray to the table: "Here you are: white, no sugar. You've managed to keep the weight off Ellingham. Most of our med school mates are a bit portly. Look at Chris Parsons. Fat and bald, just as I predicted!"**

**Annoyed by her criticism of his friend, Martin pushed aside the hot cup and spluttered: "Edith, as much as you want a catch-up, I must get back to Port Wenn. This hand is problem enough. I can't waste time drinking bad tea."**

"**And it's lovely seeing you as well, Ellingham. What's happened to you? When we were at med school, you at least had a modicum of personality. I could even jolly you up for the occasional smile. Mum always made you laugh. Your arguments with Dad over politics were terribly amusing. You've become quite stodgy, haven't you!"**

"**Yes, I probably have. But you haven't been booted out of gynae and forced to treat head lice and haemorrhoids for the last three years. You have Londoners at your clinic instead of fishermen, oil workers and every low wage earner in Cornwall. Not to mention their brats and the women who continue to spawn them. It's no walk in the park, but I've a duty to the villagers."**

"**How did you end up here, Mart? Why didn't you go into therapy immediately? You could be doing surgery rather than letting your mind moulder in the West Country."**

"**As a matter of fact, I'm overcoming the phobia and will be able to resume surgery very soon. I've been looking about for openings. When I'm ready Chris Parsons will help me. I'll find a post soon."**

"**Good. I'll be in London by September and affiliated with Imperial. Zeffren has a big clinic there, and it's all private pay. The fees are fantastic. Too bad you hate gynae. Repro is very lucrative and interesting."**

**The very thought made Martin shudder. He had no interest in making anyone pregnant. Standing again, he dismissed his former lover with an unusual bit of courtesy: "Thank you for the tea. It was quite good seeing you Edith. Enjoy your time in Truro."**

**Edith fixed her face with that enticing look it had taken him years to forget: "So that's it, Ellingham. After twenty years, I'm treated to a five minute audience with you. Why don't you let me cook dinner for you tonight. I could make all your favourites: fish, fish and fish."**

**Missing her point, Martin demurred: "No, the fish in Port Wenn is fresher."**

"**Prove it," Edith challenged.**

**Whatever did she mean: "Prove what?"**

"**That the fish in Port Wenn is fresher," she teased. **

"**I don't have to prove a thing." Edith was as exasperating as her mum. "The simple fact is that it's caught during the day, brought to harbour around three o'clock and ready for supper at six."**

"**Oh dear, Ellingham, you remain the most literal man in the universe. I fully understand your point. My point is that if you asked me to have dinner with you in Port Wenn, you could prove the fish are fresher."**

"**But why would I do that," again mystified by this entire conversation.**

"**Because I knew my way around your twigs and berries for quite a few years. Don't tell me you aren't tempted to have a chat with me."**

**At this Martin dropped his head. On first seeing Edith, long-suppressed memories surfaced, including her rejection of his marriage proposals. If he understood why, it may provide insight into Louisa's decision not to marry him as well. He would like to talk with Montgomery. **** Other than Parsons, no one in the world knew him better or understood him more. Okay, then, Louisa had told him to be more social, he would have Edith come to supper.**

"**Dinner, then. Tomorrow night at six. I'll cook fresh fish. My surgery's in the centre of the village, near the Platt. Old stone building overlooks the harbour. A ledge at the front. Can't miss it. But the place is full of tourists, half term and all that. So drive carefully."**

"**Yes, I'm off to Larchmont Hall on Saturday to fetch my son and his cousins for a short holiday in Legoland: Dragon Roller Coaster, Laser Raiders, Atlantis Submarine Voyage. You'd quite like it, Ellingham."**

**Not fazed by her sarcasm, he only asked: "You've a son?"**

"**Yes, Nicholas Henry. From my second marriage and second divorce. Dad's a bit of a git, but he's a splendid boy. Age seven. Bright, funny and he's gotten quite secure with Rose and his aunts. I wanted to send him off to boarding school but they wouldn't hear of it. He's at the village school with David's children and doing quite well."**

"**David Montgomery has children?"**

"**Yes, five. And the threat of six from his fecund wife. She's determined to take over Larchmont Hall through her reproductive organs. Ellingham we really do need a catch-up. Dinner. Tomorrow at six. Yes?"**

**Meanwhile, at Paddington Station, Louisa Glasson was preparing to board the train to Cornwall. Luggage and boxes had been sent to Port Wenn on Monday, and she had only one small case for the next few days. That evening she would arrive in Truro, only to stay at the same bed and breakfast that offered refuge following her wedding day. ****The next morning she would register at the Royal Cornwall obstetrics clinic and then meet Chris Parsons for lunch. **

**When she rang Chris, he had been delighted to learn of her return, but carefully made no mention of Martin. Her request for "a bit of a chat," led to Parsons inviting her for lunch. Certainly, he had been in touch with Martin, if only professionally, and he'd likely know his friend's state of mind. **

**Following lunch, she would take the afternoon bus to Port Wenn, arriving in early evening. Her plan was to stop at Martin's surgery after it had closed and villagers were settled into their homes for the night. She had thoroughly rehearsed her talk with him and was determined to be calm and reasonable. Not even India knew of her fear that he would reject both her and the baby. But she was prepared for any sort of reaction. **

**Hotels in Port Wenn and self-catering cottages were taken by tourists, so she would stay at the pub until other lodgings were found. It was galling that the man who took her job also let her home. She longed to return to the security she knew in White Rose Cottage.**

**Louisa washed her hands in the loo and then returned to India and Babs, waiting outside.**

**Ever the mother, India asked: "Everything okay, Louisa? Travel can be stressful in pregnancy. Be certain to walk about the train. Elevate your feet and make certain your ankles don't get puffy."**

"**Oh for goodness sake, India, she's a grown woman and knows how to care for herself," Babs chided. "Look, I'm dying for a cigarette and will meet you with the car. Louisa, go have the baby and be the best mother and teacher ever. If you come back to London, be certain to ring me. I'll find a fantastic flat for you and baby." Then she placed her hands on Louisa shoulders and loudly kissed her on each cheek. "Ta for now," she sang and clicked her way across the station. **

**Louisa shook her head and laughed: "India, where did you ever find her. She's so unlike you."**

"**We actually had the same divorce lawyer. Believe me Babs is not as strong as she seems. I can't tell you how many mornings, actually afternoons, I had to phone her and talk her into leaving bed. I had my children, but she had nothing when her husband left her. She is another woman who took control of her life and learned how to make something of it. I'm proud of her, ****just as I am of the women at Holyrood who work out a way to earn money and care for their families.**

"**Now promise me, Louisa, you'll see Martin first thing. Don't let your insecurity and pride get in the way. Danny said he's a decent sort who'll want to be involved with his child. Don't push him away. It took you three months in London to admit you needed people. And it was just as you were leaving. You can't waste three months in Port Wenn acting as if you don't need Martin. Alright then, advice over. I'm turning into an Agony Aunt," India exclaimed. **

**A garbled announcement warned it was time to board the train. Louisa moved into India's arms for the hug needed to see her through the journey back to Port Wenn and what might await her there.**

**Continued . . . **


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Interlude

The 12.06 train was filled with London families on holiday from the frenzied pace of the city. In the first hour or so, children were subdued and bent over books or video games. Numb parents stared through windows, savouring the unusual lassitude of a Tuesday afternoon.

As the train traveled into the countryside, the children's attention shifted to the farm animals appearing along the way. Mums looked up from their BlackBerrys to agree that the cow was quite beautiful or that the sheep were bigger than those pictured in school books. Dads handed out sweets to induce a return to quietude, but it was too late. Excited children dashed about the aisles to the consternation of some passengers. Louisa was not among them. She enjoyed watching the children and hoped that Addie students were having this sort of freedom. They'd soon return to the drudgery of pleasing their ambitious mothers.

Families disembarked at each of the stations and few others entered the train. Arriving in Truro, Louisa easily moved from the train to a taxi. Mrs. Mullvaney, the owner of the bed and breakfast, surprisingly recognized her: "Oh, love, I see you're to have a baby. We'll give special care to you and the wee one. Shall I make you tea? What do you fancy for breakfast?"

"That's very kind of you. I've an appointment at hospital in the morning and must leave here by eight. It's been a long journey as well. I'll have tea now, and then make an early evening of it." Louisa felt a bit queasy from the jostling train and fatigue. Last night anxiety delayed sleep, and she slumbered only at dawn. A call from Babs had awakened her with a command to be ready at ten. "I'm fetching India now. Promise you two won't puddle up. I can't bear weepy goodbyes."

Sleep did come to Louisa in Truro at the hands of Caer Ibor Meith and Aengus Moc Og. She had intentionally returned to the bed and breakfast seeking the solace provided months earlier by the Celtic Goddess of Sleep and the God of Love. Now, in a more settled state of mind, she hoped to regain that peace as she prepared to meet Martin. London had taught her how to manage difficult people, and she was ready to do just that.

The next morning Louisa ate toast, berries and an egg but declined the greasy sausages Mrs. Mullvaney urged on her. At the obstetrics clinic she was not surprised that her weight was three pounds more than at her last exam. She had been over-indulging in food as she left London. "You're still well within the normal range for weight gain, particularly here," the nurse confided. "We have many overweight mums, and I can tell you it's no favour to themselves or the babies. Gestational diabetes. We see it all the time. But good on you for staying trim."

Each phase of Louisa's registration was filled with such comments and took longer than expected. In only a few months she had become accustomed to London's brusque populace and now must re-adapt to the nattering people of Cornwall. Even the obstetrician chatted about matters unrelated to Louisa's medical condition. Martin would have finished in half the time!

She was to meet Chris Parsons for lunch at half twelve and leisurely walked to his office. It felt good to move about after the confines of the train. A little flushed on her arrival, Louisa gratefully accepted water from his assistant. "Dr. Parsons will be with you shortly. He's going 'round with the PCT for more money. That's all he does, you see. We're to have the top medical care but no funding for it." Louisa empathised, explaining her own often fruitless efforts to gain money for Port Wenn Primary.

Ten minutes after their meeting time, Chris popped his head from the door: "Fantastic to see you, Louisa. Let me send one email and I'll be with you."

She remained seated and returned to the magazine spread on her lap. When Chris emerged, she stood and watched his smiling face transform to a shocked expression. She could only imagine Martin's reaction.

But Chris was more politic. He bent to kiss her cheek and then turned to his assistant, "Laura, we'll be at Dockerty's for lunch. Ring me if the world starts to collapse."

Outside, it was his composure that collapsed. "My God, Louisa, you're pregnant. Congratulations and all that. I can't believe Mart didn't say a thing to me. It's like him though, isn't it? You look grand. Everything going well? Ellingham a father. I never thought I'd see the day!"

Louisa was relieved to discuss the baby as they walked toward the restaurant. After their meal had been ordered, she confessed to Martin's oldest friend: "Uhm, you see, Chris. I haven't actually told Martin about the pregnancy. I tried, but we got into a silly row and then neither of us would phone the other. I'll stop at his surgery tonight to tell him. I thought it would be better than trying to explain by phone."

"Louisa, are you certain? It might be a bit of a shock to Mart. Why don't you ring him first. Let him get used to the idea. I saw him only yesterday, and he's nearly overcome the blood phobia. Thinking of returning to London and surgery. But you being back in Port Wenn, pregnant, he'll want to marry you. Do the right thing this time."

Louisa bristled at this innocent remark: "There's no need for Martin to marry me. I only want him to know about the baby, have him involved. But it doesn't mean we'll marry. We both need to sort out any manner of things." What Michelle had told her was true, then. Martin was to leave Port Wenn. How could he have a relationship with the baby? Chris Parsons had just jabbed a needle of reality into her plans.

Their remaining conversation became more stilted as Louisa described the half time position and her hope of full time employment for the autumn term. Chris mentioned the missed job at Truro High School, and Louisa smiled brightly: "It's quite alright. It would've been a bit far for Martin to see the baby. Course now, with him in London, it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Look Louisa, you are exactly what Martin needs. Stop pushing away from him. This baby gives you a chance to be together as a family. Whether you marry Ellingham or not, he'll want to care for you both. That's how he is. Always does the right thing. Always does his duty."

With this comment, Louisa bit her lip and dropped her gaze as Chris quickly added: "No, wait, I don't mean 'duty,' Louisa. You know what I mean. He loves you. He'll love the baby. He'll want all of you to be together. You'll be able to sort it out. You've a few months before the birth. Let Mart be part of it all. Don't reject him, make him insecure. Let him know you want him. That the baby needs him. That's all the poor sod craves. Someone who wants him and needs him. Then you can decide on marriage."

After lunch, Chris put Louisa in a taxi to the bed and breakfast. There the car waited as she collected her case for the drive to the bus. Louisa was relieved to recognize no one from Port Wenn on the bus. It was filled with university students on their way to Winnard's Perch to work on a water quality project. When they left the bus, she was alone. Unlike most of the people she met that day, the driver was a bit taciturn and only grumbled: "Port Wenn in 30 minutes."

A number of miles before the bus reached Winnard's Perch, a black Audi sedan sped by it. The car was driven by Edith Montgomery on her way to dinner with Martin Ellingham. To wind him up, she brought several small meringues along with containers of strawberries and custard sauce to make Pavlovas. She didn't fancy them, but wondered if Ellingham would remember the sugary concotion from her long ago visit to Port Wenn.

In her case was a folder of journal articles about phobias compiled by Lacey Woods. Edith had also removed from the hospital library several DVDs showing various vascular surgeries. Under her tutelage, Ellingham would overcome his haemophobia and return to London as Robert Southwood wished. Good for both of them.

Edith had her dalliances in Truro, and Southwood or a younger lover would satisfy her in London. But with her managing the Zeffren Clinic, she needed a man possessing the gravitas and medical pedigree to match her own. With Ellingham back in London, he would do quite nicely.

After a few missed turns, Edith entered Port Wenn and made her way through the tourists she had been warned of. Ellingham's surgery was easily spotted, and she wedged her car into a space next to a large, grey Lexus. Must be Mart's. He always thought the Japanese were superior in all things mechanical and pooh-poohed her taste in high-powered German cars.

Balancing her case and the box of Pavlovas, she made her way up the steep stone steps as four teenage girls passed by. "Crikey, do you see that hair? Think it's from a bottle do you? The doc can't do anything for you. What you need is a good hairdresser, init."

Oh this was much too easy, but Edith could not resist retorting: "And what you need is to shift 20 pounds, wear clothes that don't make you look like tarts and figure a way out of this biscuit tin town." The girls were so shocked that they could not even giggle as they hurried down the hill, away from this menacing bitch.

With her hands engaged and her spirit lifted, Edith kicked the front door and found it open. "Ellingham, I'm here. Where the bloody hell are you?"

He appeared from the back of the surgery, suit jacket and tie covered by an apron. "Come through to the kitchen, Edith. Everything's on heat. We should be able to dine by six. I've gotten fish. Fresh fish. Actually crab. I thought it appropriate."

"Love what you've done with the place," her sarcasm was again lost on Martin as she followed him into the living area. "The Asian art reminds me of your bedsit. I would have thought you'd have a few better pieces by now. And the leather Chesterfield and farm table? You didn't have to buy everything at Heal's, did you?"

"It's adequate, Edith. Actually it's quite comfortable. I'm quite comfortable here."

"Then why are you returning to London? Why not stay here. Rot away what's left of your brain. Should take – what – a year or so? Surgeons have a short career Ellingham. At best you have ten more years and maybe another five teaching. You must return to London before it's too late. Or do you actually like this place?"

"How could I like it? You can't imagine the indignities I'm subjected to each day. The villagers are ignorant imbeciles who don't follow medical instructions and aren't worth my time. They're a miserable lot of ungrateful morons."

"Well, Ellingham, the first re-training you'll need is in politically-correct language. I don't believe 'imbecile' is a word you can use in referring to patients, and 'moron' is definitely frowned upon."

"Ridiculous! Those terms are perfectly-acceptable medical diagnoses. At any rate, I'll be in the operating theatre and will have little contact with patients. I must say, I'm looking forward to it."

"Seeing what I have of this village, I agree. Let's have supper, and then will get on with it."

"That's what your mum said. I only have to get on with it and everything will be fine." He was elated at the thought of Edith helping him with the final thrust to conquer his phobia. He conveniently forgot that Rose Montgomery meant he was to get on with it by sorting out his relationship with Louisa.

Mentally burying his painful thoughts of Louisa, Martin Ellingham argued his way through supper with the intellectually-adroit Edith Montgomery. She was well-read in many fields of medicine and held her own in discussing recent developments in cardiovascular treatments.

He felt so optimistic that he had indulged in one of the creamy Pavlovas she placed before him. With an espresso at hand, he settled in to review the journal articles with Edith.

She pointed toward his bandaged hand: "Does that blood upset you?"

"No, not at all. I'll apply a fresh dressing."

"Here, let me do it. I'm still a dab hand at sutures. My God, who did these? The hand shouldn't be oozing like this."

"Apparently, I'm not allowed to say this, but some cretin at your hospital. I told her exactly how to do them."

"Um, yes, I can see how that would've helped. Let me fix it for you. I can re-suture them if you like. You know how I enjoy inflicting pain!"

With a grimace, Martin stood to enter his surgery and fetch a suture kit. A muffled knock at the kitchen door stopped him. Looking from Edith to the shadowy figure at the door, he opened it.

Whether it was the sugary Pavlova or the sight that greeted him, bile rushed into Martin's throat and blood left his brain. He could utter only: "Louisa!"

Every bit as nervous and stomach sick as he was, Louisa stood back a bit and forced a smile: "Hello, Martin."

Continued . . . .


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Prologue

To: bosman melita com mt

From: LGEllingham swnet co uk

Dear Caroline,

Martin and I were thrilled to see you and Tom during your short visit to Port Wenn. Thank you for the beautiful Maltese vase. The interplay of blue colours is striking and will always remind us of the water surrounding our beloved village.

Sorry the surgery was in shambles, but we've had a busy time of it since the wedding. The consultant who filled in for Martin at Imperial has returned to Durban, and we must be in London by mid-March. We had to give up the flat let for July, but my friend, Babs, has found another spot in a nearby building. It is older and has a bit more character and space, particularly in the bedroom James will use. A small terrace is off the living room, so we will have a chance for fresh air.

It will be re-decorated in a soft grey colour called "Elephant's Breath." Morwenna Newcross, Martin's receptionist, found the scheme in one of her magazines. I'm glad she has time for such things as I certainly don't. Going from a pregnant teacher to a wife and mum in six months has been more difficult than I expected.

It was a trying time both before and after James Henry's birth, but Martin and I came through it all and are quite happy. You were very kind to send the emails when I returned to Port Wenn from London. Having been away only a short time and knowing Martin, I was indeed shocked that he had re-united with his old girlfriend from med school.

That proved not to be the case, but I did not know that from Martin. Of course, I was beastly toward him, going it alone, not letting him be involved. I wasted too much time trying to be strong and independent. My friend, India, soon set me straight. Traveling to hospital from the pub where James was born, I rang India and described Martin's reaction to the baby. She assured me that all would be well, now that our child had arrived. It seemed so simple when we talked, but the reality was something else.

My mother's arrival in Port Wenn was the last thing we needed, particularly as Martin took an instant dislike to her. Mum returned to Spain with little gratitude to Martin for saving her life, and I'm not sure we'll see her again. We will, however, see my dad. He will be released from prison in May, and plans to visit us in London and then return to Port Wenn. White Rose Cottage will be his home, and he hopes to find some sort of work in the village.

Ruth Ellingham has finally begun writing her book and has thrown herself into it to the exclusion of Havenhurst Farm. Al Large has been working more at his father's restaurant, leaving Ruth in need of help. Perhaps my dad can work a bit for her at the farm. If that isn't possible, I'll be able to send him money from my salary, as Martin's income will be adequate for the three of us.

Thank you, again, for the beautiful wedding gift. I will cherish it as I have always cherished our friendship. We look forward to seeing you in London following your return from Malta in June.

Fondly,

Louisa

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To: Parsons5 swnet co uk

From: LGEllingham swnet co uk

Dear Michelle and Chris,

Thank you for the lovely dinner on Saturday evening. We were thrilled with the painting of Port Wenn, showing both my school and Martin's surgery. What a perfect wedding present!

Like Martin, I have greatly appreciated your friendship over the years and hope to see more of you in London. We had some hint of the changes being wrought by the government's Health and Social Care Act but no idea of its effect on Chris. His new posting with the NHS in London sounds exciting and is well-deserved.

With the planned closing of the Cornwall PCT and the new NHS Kernow CCG, Martin's practise would have been affected greatly had he remained in Port Wenn. Returning to surgery and London may be for the best, and I hope he is able to cope with the changes.

When you move house in July, I will have six weeks free from school and could help you settle in London. St. Veronica's School has sent applications for Julia and Gillian, and Liliana Orestes is making inquiries about schools for Danny. My friend, India, has a three bedroom flat in Chiswick and knows of at least one large flat for let in the summer. Failing that, Babs Bournham will find the perfect place for you. India's former mother-in-law is on the board of several orchestras and symphonies and will be of help to Michelle as she looks for openings. You will enjoy meeting all of my London friends. Martin is certainly looking forward to doing so.

As you know, Martin is not a sentimental sort. But returning from Truro on Saturday, he did recall his close friendship with Chris during medical school and his later envy of your marriage and children. His hope is that we will be as happy with our James Henry.

Fondly,

Louisa

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To: Liliana orestes svgs org

From: LGEllingham swnet co uk

Dear Liliana,

I was thrilled to learn that your MS remains in remission. Do you think it's because you are teaching once again? Management is very stressful and I, too, am looking forward to only teaching. The half time maths post at St. Veronica's seems ideal. Although I would love to mentor the Junior Maths Society if that is possible. Martin has agreed to a babyminder for James two days a week and one afternoon. Please let me know if you need a coach for your girls. It was quite enjoyable working with such brilliant students at Augusta Ada Lovelace.

James has outgrown the Moses basket, but it remains in his room and is now filled with toys. Martin placed your books and CDs on a shelf out of his reach. With my boy crawling all about, he does have a point. You and Vincent will find James quite charming and bright when we meet you in London.

Please do tell your director of studies that I have sent the application to her along with my CV and letters of reference. If this isn't the right post, please tell me as you hear of others. Being a mum has been rewarding, but I must work to maintain my sanity. Just as you and my friend, Bert Large, told me!

Fondly,

Louisa

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To: gardenerandchef lycos co uk

From: LGEllingham swnet co uk

Dear Gareth and Didier,

You two are fantastic! I had no idea how you discovered the B&B where we were married. Only Martin and I knew about it, and we told no one, except his Aunt Ruth. Of course, you were able to wheedle it from her!

We were thrilled with the flowers you sent for the wedding and your kind sentiments. For Martin, it was definitely the way to be married. He dislikes masses of people, and the thought of re-creating our first attempt at a wedding before the entire village was more than he could bear. The owners of the B&B were our witnesses and the vicar came from a nearby church. The ceremony was very short but quite meaningful, as you can imagine.

After we had been through so much, I did not expect to be nervous. But both of us were quite anxious as we drove to Devon. In the car we said little, and I found myself clinging to Martin's hand. He had to drop it occasionally to maneouver a roundabout, but he was quite patient with me.

The flat in Kensington is not as posh as you may believe, although it does have high ceilings and a small terrace. It is a bit like Liliana's townhouse in Acton but all on one floor. There is a lift and I can imagine James will love it. He constantly moves about and has grown quite a bit. It was wise of you to give him sleepsuits in various sizes, so that he is still wearing them. Please tell Amir that James is using the Beatrix Potter bowl and spoon for cereal but will soon move on to soup!

Martin is looking forward to meeting you both and hearing about Gareth's conservatory and Didier's fish recipes.

It will be lovely seeing you soon.

Fondly

Louisa

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To: DirectorHolyrood londonnetmail com

From LGEllingham swnet co uk

Dear India,

I was thrilled that you had a chance to meet Isobel Brown and Caroline Bosman during your visit to Port Wenn. Little wonder that you enjoyed Caroline and Isobel as you three are my dearest friends. Never could I have managed the last year without you. Martin again apologises for being called away from dinner. He will not miss the interrupted meals and sleep when he returns to surgery. Although he will have a busy schedule at Imperial, he believes it will not be as challenging as his current practise. That remains to be seen.

You know how keen I was to return to Port Wenn, but it was really to be with Martin. When he told me of his new posting in London, I was initially angry because it would take him away from James. Of course, we were not married, and I had no idea if there would be a future for us.

As you counselled, we had to sort through many things before we realised marriage was right for James. I am now looking forward to returning to London with Martin. The half time post at St. Veronica's will begin in the summer term, so I shall be a kept woman for a few months as I settle all of us into our new home. If you like, I could volunteer at the shelter and bring James with me. Martin doesn't want me to leave him with strangers; although the chemist who kidnapped him, while strange, was not a stranger. It may be that one of the women from your training programme could be his babyminder.

I saw Muriel Steel yesterday, and she is over the moon with your visit, especially meeting your children. Danny made a proper job of refurbishing the Steels' home, and it is a fantastic holiday cottage. Let's hope all of us can return to Port Wenn each summer and enjoy our time together.

Aristotle was right, India. Only I could determine what I wanted in life and how to attain it. I had to make myself happy. Martin nor anyone else could do that. It was down to me. Having James and being with Martin makes me very happy. I only hope that we make him happy as well.

We will see you in London a month from now. I'm certain our life will prove interesting as we settle in together as a family. As Babs would say: "Ta for now."

Fondly,

Louisa

The End

Thanks to the readers and reviewers who followed this story of Martin and Louisa. The TV show left a gap between their wedding day in Series 3 and Louisa's return to Port Wenn in Season 4. It was fun imagining what may have happened.


End file.
